


April Showers

by EllanaSan



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unplanned Pregnancy, mention of past torture, talk of adoptions, talks of abortion, talks of anything that could usually come with an unplanned pregnancy, talks of miscariage, this is the hunger games folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 80
Words: 345,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: Two years after the war, Haymitch still hates being shaken awake. Two years after the war, Effie still can't go a night without having a nightmare. Two years after the war, they're still not sure they're ready to start living again - until they're forced to reevaluate what they want their future to be.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> This is me again with a brand new hayffie story! This story takes place around two years post war and it will deal with an accidental pregnancy. I had a lot of messages asking me about hayffie and kids over the last couple of years and it made me think because I am on the opinion that in a strict canon interpretation, they wouldn’t have children. So it made me think about what could happen if they accidentally found out they were expecting one given their frame of mind after the war and how interesting it would be if Effie’s trauma played a bigger role when Haymitch’s own demons have finally started being laid to rest. 
> 
> A few controversial topics will be discussed in this story going from miscarriages to abortion, stuff you can expect to see discussed when a pregnancy is involved. Just to clarify because the problem arose in “Must Be Something In The Water”, characters have their own opinions that don’t necessarily match mine. I try to keep everyone in character and somehow realistic, that’s all.
> 
> There will be some angst, some fluff and a Samoyed puppy (that cat has been out of the bag for a while I fear haha). I wouldn’t say it’s all rainbows and butterflies but it’s not all gloom and rain either. I hope you choose to follow me on this new adventure and that you enjoy the ride!
> 
> As far as chapters and updates go, I haven’t finished the story yet but I’m around 30 chapters right now so it will probably be a long one. I expect around 40 in all. For now it will be published on Sundays but it might be moved to Fridays when Invictus is finished.
> 
> I think that covers it… Well… I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Let me know your thoughts!

Almost two years after the end of the war, Haymitch still hated being shaken awake.

He jerked in a sitting position, his hand immediately searching for a knife that wasn’t there anymore – not now that he was permanently sharing his bed – his eyes scanning the room for enemies. The soft glow of the nightstand lamp was casting half of the bedroom in shadows but the furniture’s outlines were familiar enough that he blinked and took a deep breath. The smell immediately assaulted him but it must have been a remnant from his night terrors.

“Haymitch.” Effie whispered, a bit frightened. “Haymitch, are you awake?”

“Yeah.” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Did you have a nightmare?”

It wasn’t unusual for her to wake him up because of something like that.

When she had first showed up ten months earlier, almost a year to the T after he had first brought Katniss back, it had been with suitcases, debts and so many triggers he had spent the first few days walking on eggshells around her. Haymitch had been shocked the first time she had started screaming her head off in the middle of the night. After a week, it had become the norm. She had eventually migrated from the guest room to his bedroom – there was no point in her sleeping in another room if he had to cross the corridor to climb into bed with her to calm her down or if she had to sneak in his bed for the same reason. Sleeping together helped, as stupid as it sounded. His own night terrors had abated slightly. Hers, though, were still recurrent.

“Something’s wrong.” she said, her voice cracking with fear. “Haymitch…”

He frowned and finally took his hands off from his face to look at her, thinking she might still have been in the midst of her nightmare. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wake up disoriented or not to be able to tell dreams and reality apart anymore. It was odd she hadn’t yet latched herself at him though. She always clung to him if he was nearby when she was having a nightmare or a panic attack.

_The smell_ , he realized a second too late, the smell was still there.

“ _Fuck_.” he spat when he spotted the blood stains on her hands. He reached out but she recoiled with a wince.

“Don’t…” she pleaded. “Don’t touch me.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, kicking the covers off them. “What did you do? How _in hell_ did you…” He shut up abruptly when he saw where the blood was coming from. It wasn’t a cut on her palm like he had first thought. There were blood stains on her nightgown, near the apex of her thighs, and on the sheets. Enough that it made his stomach churn but not enough that he truly panicked yet. Given where the bleeding seemed to be coming from… “Okay.” he said  stupidly, trying to take it in stride. Blood was one of her triggers. Last time Peeta had dropped a plate and cut himself, she had barely stayed together long enough to leave the room only to lose it in the privacy of the bathroom – keeping her insecurities, flashbacks and adjustment troubles from the kids was her prime concern. “Okay, sweetheart, it’s just…”

“Something’s _wrong_.” she repeated, her voice breaking in a sob. There were tears in her eyes she was making an obvious effort not to shed and her lips were wobbling.

“It’s just your period.” he winced awkwardly. “It’s not…”

“No.” she countered and she sounded sure enough that he didn’t insist. She pressed her blood stained hands against her stomach, her face contorted in pain. “It’s different. I… Something’s _wrong_.”

The panic that he had pushed down with rational arguments came back with a vengeance. She seemed certain, there was a lot of blood and, to the best of his knowledge, she hadn’t had her period since she had been tortured in prison so it _was_ odd that it would come back now of all time.

“We need to get you to the hospital.” he declared, because it was the logical thing to suggest.

He should have known better.

She had spent too much time locked up in a hospital room after her rescue. She avoided doctors like the plague nowadays.

She immediately shook her head, curling up on her side and letting the tears flow. “No! No, I don’t want to go back! Please, Haymitch… _Please_.”

He passed a hand over his face, trying to keep his wits about him. Blood wasn’t just a trigger for _her,_ after all.

“I will tell them to send a doctor.” he compromised. “I… We need to do _something_ , alright? If you’re sure it’s not your… You need to see a doctor.”

It was probably best for them to send someone anyway. Haymitch didn’t have a car and the brand new hospital – well, they called it a hospital but it was more a clinic, really, the cases that required more technology were always transferred to Thirteen – was at the other end of the District. She looked in pain and she would never be able to walk all the way there.

He didn’t give her time to protest. He bolted out of bed and dashed down the stairs, almost tripping on the hems of his sweatpants because they were too loose on his hips. It was a short phone call, they promised to dispatch someone at once so he hurried back upstairs.

Effie was where he had left her, curled up on her side, crying softly, hugging her stomach. He crawled back next to her on the bed and brushed her hair away from her face, at a loss for what to do.  

“What can I do?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. She was locked in a world of her own, a world of nightmares he couldn’t breach. He stayed with her for a couple of minutes and then decided she would have a fit if she snapped out of it to find out a stranger had seen her in that state, doctor or not. He grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom and tried to clean her up a little, holding his breath all the while because the smell of blood was difficult for him. The sight of it on her thighs was already almost too much.

He didn’t think the bleeding was as extensive as he had feared but he was still entirely out of his depth. He tried not to find it awkward because he was a grown man and she was his… _whatever_. And she was in pain.

“Haymitch…” Effie breathed out after a few minutes. “Haymitch, I’m scared…”

He sat with his back to the headboard and petted her hair, letting her use his thigh as a cushion for her head. She clung to his leg, sometimes letting out a pained whimper.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” he kept repeating. “It’s gonna be alright.”

He had never been so relieved to hear a car engine in his life. He had all the pain in the world to convince her to let him go meet the doctor.

The man was in his mid-fifty. He had graying hair, brown eyes, dark squared glasses, and an air of no-nonsense about him that made Haymitch feel slightly better. He regretted that Katniss’ mother had chosen to never come back because he trusted the healer and he didn’t trust _strangers_. He had heard good things about the man though. The doctor had moved to Twelve from District Six a little over a year earlier and had taken over the management of the clinic. People seemed to like him well enough.

“Clanius Larcher.” the man introduced himself, outstretching a hand for Haymitch to shake. He was all business and the victor might not have admitted it but his attitude was somehow reassuring. “Where’s my patient?”

Haymitch led him upstairs, explaining what had happened to the best of his abilities. The doctor nodded but didn’t offer any possible explanations of his own. He stepped in the bedroom and immediately went to sit on the bed next to Effie.

“Mrs Abernathy…” he started.

“She’s not…” Haymitch started only to stop. “We’re not married.”

No introductions as to who she was were necessary though. Everyone in the District knew who was living in his house, everyone _in Panem_ knew where the last living escort had disappeared to. It had made quite a scandal.

“Miss Trinket.” the doctor amended. “I need to take a look. Is that alright with you?”

Effie, he could tell, wasn’t completely aware of what was going on. He shuffled on his feet, unsure if he should leave or stay.

“Haymitch…” she begged and it settled the debate. He sat on her other side and grabbed her hand.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” he whispered, trying to comfort her. “I’m right here.”

“Where am I?” she sobbed. “Here or there? I can’t tell… I…”

Larcher frowned and looked at him, looking for an explanation.

“She’s having flashbacks.” Haymitch said reluctantly. They weren’t in a habit of sharing their demons with just _anyone._ “The blood… It’s a trigger. And she’s in pain… That’s… That’s not helping. ”

And it wasn’t helping _him_ staying calm either. His hands were shaking and he glanced around, not surprised not to spot any bottle. Effie had a rule about alcohol in the bedroom.

“Can you calm her down?” the doctor requested, taking out disposable gloves from his bag and slipping them on.

It took five minutes before he managed to reach her and convince her she was in Twelve with him and not in a cell being torn to pieces.

“Miss Trinket, where does it hurt?” Larcher asked. “Can you tell me?” She waved in the vague direction of her lower belly, breathing deeply through the pain when the man asked her to describe it for him. The doctor kept a professional face but Haymitch saw the glint of worry all the same. “Alright.” the man said. “I really need to take a look now.”

She rolled on her back and Haymitch hesitated. “Do you want me to…”

“Stay.” she begged, grabbing his wrist and holding on tight.

“Okay.” he agreed immediately. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He tried not to look, to give her some privacy. Larcher was good at schooling his features but Haymitch could read the worry there, he was too familiar with the feeling.

“Can you tell me when your last period was?” the doctor asked.

She shook her head and touched her face, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“More than two years.” she hesitated. “I am not sure. Before the Quell.”

Haymitch ran his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her, to keep her grounded. He remained silent and did his best to hide the tremors in his hands but he was terrified. He had grown used to her living with him, he had grown used to kisses in the mornings and at nights, he had grown used to _them,_ to the world and the life they had created for themselves. It might not have been a typical one but it was _theirs_ and it worked and, as far as he was concerned, it was _perfect._ He would never go back to before, _could_ never go back. _He couldn’t_ _lose her_.

Larcher frowned, gently nudging her legs closed. She immediately curled up on her side again.

“You will find me very rude to ask this to a lady like yourself…” the doctor joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “But how old are you?”

He took off the blood stained gloves and placed them in a small container in his bag, obviously to be thrown away later.   

“Thirty-seven.” she mumbled.

“Thirty-seven is a bit young for menopause.” the man observed.

“It wasn’t…” Haymitch cut in and then sighed. “Her body is damaged.” He licked his lips nervously, searching Effie’s eyes for consent. She simply nodded, burrowing against his side, apparently not caring that they had an audience - _that_ was how he knew she was really hurting, and if that guy could help… “She was captured by the Capitol and tortured for information.” he explained. The fact that she had been tortured wasn’t public knowledge. People had been puzzled at her being pardoned after the war. The official reason was that she had helped the Mockingjay, the unofficial one was that Haymitch had bargained hard with Coin to secure her immunity. “The doctors said… Well, they said her body was too damaged.”

“I see.” Larcher nodded, keeping a blank face. “I will need to access her medical file, which means we need to take her to the clinic. The bleeding has stopped for now but I would like to run some tests and keep her under watch for a couple of hours.”

“But what is it?” Haymitch frowned. “You have an idea, right? Is she going to be alright or…”

He didn’t miss the look Effie and the doctor exchanged. It was brief but Effie turned her head away.

“I can’t say for sure until we have the tests results.” Larcher said.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Effie protested. “I just… I can’t…”

“You do what you have to do to be okay.” Haymitch growled, before glaring at the doctor. “You have an idea. What is it?”

The doctor pursed his lips, tapping his fingers on his bag. “Could you be pregnant, Miss Trinket?”

“No.” Haymitch answered at once. “I told you. Her body…”

“Are you sexually active?” Larcher interrupted.

Haymitch flushed red, opening and closing his mouth.

“It is possible.” Effie whispered, shocking him into silence. “You think I had a miscarriage. It felt like a miscarriage.”

He may or may not have let out a strangled noise that sounded like a whine. “What are you talking about? You can’t have a miscarriage, you’re _not_ pregnant.”

He was ignored both by Effie and by the doctor.

“I don’t think it was a miscarriage, I don’t see a mass or any clotting.” Larcher replied in a soothing voice. “I think a pregnancy is a possible explanation. We need to run some tests and I need you at the clinic to monitor you for a few hours.” She shook her head but the doctor grew sterner. “Be sensible, Miss Trinket. If you are not pregnant then we need to determine what is happening with your body. It is perfectly possible you are resuming a normal menstruation schedule. I need to study your medical history. And I can only do that at the hospital so… ”

“But she’s _not_ pregnant.” Haymitch insisted, completely stunned.

Larcher turned an understanding but slightly amused gaze in his direction. “Mr Abernathy, it would help a lot if I didn’t have to deal with two patients tonight so, please, _do_ take a breath before you faint and help Miss Trinket into something warmer. We will take my car. How’s the pain now?”

“Bearable.” she answered. “The cramps have stopped.”

“Good. That’s good.” Larcher nodded.   

“But you _can’t_ be pregnant.” he said again, as soon as the doctor had left the room.

“I don’t know.” Effie sighed, slipping her stained nightgown over her head. “It felt like a miscarriage.”

“How would you know how _that_ feels like?” he snapped.

There was a vacant look in her eyes when she met his gaze. “I am so tired, Haymitch…”

He shut his mouth and helped her get dressed. He had to support her down the stairs and into the car. The trip to the clinic wasn’t that long but it felt like an eternity to him.

It was only the beginning.

Once they got to the small hospital, Effie was ushered away by nurses and it was almost twenty minutes before he was allowed to her side. She was awake, hooked to a drip, and looked more lucid, even though she reached for his hand as soon as she saw him. They had both come to hate hospitals with a passion after the war. He had spent too long waiting for her and Katniss to wake up.

“You should have gotten dressed, Haymitch.” she commented, clicking her tongue.

It occurred to him he was still in his pajamas: a pair of loose sweatpants and a long-sleeved undershirt. He had even forgotten to put shoes on. There had been room for only one thing in his mind and it had been her.

“Whatever happens, whatever’s wrong with you…” he said quietly. “I forbid you to die, sweetheart. I’m the one who dies first, okay?” From liver failure, no doubt. “So you can play the grief-stricken widow. Perfect role for you. I won’t be so good at it.”

“Don’t say things like that.” she hissed.

They stayed silent for a while, gripping each other’s hand and staring at the wall. _Waiting_. Haymitch hated waiting.

“I have been feeling nauseous in the morning for a week or so.” she confessed. “It passed after I had breakfast so I dismissed it.”

“You’re not pregnant.” he countered.

That was absolutely too terrifying to be conceived, even more so than waking up to sheets stained with her blood.

“Even if I was… I probably just lost it.” she shrugged, turning her head away from him.

“He said it wasn’t that.” he scowled. “It’s _not_ that. You’re not pregnant anyway. Maybe it’s just your… _thing_.”

“Period.” she corrected with a sigh. “Really, Haymitch, you are a grown man…”

“Yeah, and grown men want nothing to do with a woman’s period.” he retorted.

The bickering brought them back on familiar ground and they kept it up, grateful for the distraction, until Doctor Larcher approached them, a clipboard in his hands and a nurse hot on his heels.

“So?” Haymitch challenged when the man remained silent for a second too long.

Brown eyes darted from the woman lying on the bed to the victor sitting at her side, finally stopping on their entwined fingers.

“Congratulations.” Larcher said – and Haymitch _desperately_ wished he could have blocked out the rest but he heard anyway. “You’re expecting a child.”


	2. Five Weeks (1)

_You’re expecting a child._

Sounds were oddly distorted. The words rang in her ears but she wouldn’t have been able to repeat them if she had tried. She was aware of Haymitch standing shock-still next to her, of his hand clutching hers to the point it hurt, but she saw nothing, heard nothing of the following exchange. He moved away. She tried to cling to his hand but he tore it away from hers and left the room without looking back.

She was left alone to nod and automatically answer questions she heard but didn’t register.

It was only a long time after that – when dawn started to lighten the room, when they were done probing her stomach, using the ultrasound machine, printing images of her insides or sticking needles in her arms and she was allowed back into her own clothes – that she started to snap out of the daze. She couldn’t tell if she was in Twelve or elsewhere. The smell of antiseptic was barely better than the smell of blood.

Haymitch wandered back once she was dressed but he didn’t speak. She took one look at his shaking hands and supposed he hadn’t gotten drunk like she had expected him to. She wanted to ask where he had been but she supposed he had needed some time alone to panic in peace.

There was no reason to panic, she wanted to tell him but the words remained stuck in her throat.

A nurse led them to Doctor Larcher’s office and the man offered them a seat. The room was small but well decorated, she couldn’t help but notice. Light brown paint on the walls, a couple of framed diplomas, comfortable chairs in front of a metallic desk…

“I’ve studied your medical files.” Larcher declared as way of an introduction, typing on his computer. “They’re not as precise as I would have liked but that’s not surprising. A lot of prisoners of war’s and soldiers’ files have been botched after the rebellion. There was no time to keep up with things like that.”

Her hands were neatly folded on her lap, her back was straight and her ankles crossed under the chair like a proper lady ought to sit. She started worrying her fingers in nervousness. Haymitch reached out and covered them with his hand. It must have been an automatic response because he was still staring into nothing. She wrapped her hands around his instead, rubbing the quivering fingers in hope of soothing the tremors.

“As far as I can tell, they figured your tubes had been damaged during…” Larcher glanced up at her and quickly switched tracks. “I don’t see anything worrying on that front on the latest ultrasound. It is possible there had been some swelling due to your injuries at the time. I can’t find any medical record past the immediate surrender of the Capitol. Did you…”

“No. I had had enough medical attention.” she cut him off very rudely. Her nerves were too frayed. She forced herself to use a polite tone. “Can you tell when I will lose it?”

Haymitch turned his hollow eyes in her direction but she ignored him.

“I…” Larcher opened and closed his mouth. “Miss Trinket, _nothing_ indicates you are in immediate danger of losing this child.”   

“I lost blood.” she reminded him, detached.

“Yes, but it is not as uncommon as you would think in the first trimester of a pregnancy.” the doctor countered. “I estimate you’re about five weeks pregnant. Would I say you need to be closely monitored? _Yes_ , absolutely. You should be careful but if we take some basic precautions, I don’t see any real problem.” Larcher lifted his hand in a matter-of-fact gesture. “I will be honest with you. Your age and the trauma your body has been through are concerning factors but, medically, right now, you are _fine_. With close monitoring…”

“I had two miscarriages.” Effie hissed. “I won’t go through a third.”

“What’s that about miscarriages?” Haymitch asked, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Accidents. Both times. It is not important.” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. She refused to acknowledge the pinch in her heart. She _refused_.

“When?” he insisted.

“Can we _not_ talk about this now?” she pleaded but his face was stern and she could tell he had enough troubles snapping out of his dazed state as it was. “Once when I was eighteen and another after the Sixty-Sixth Hunger Games.”

The hand that was still imprisoned in hers clenched.

“Was it…” he kept his voice schooled but she heard the panic underneath.

“No.” she shook her head. “The timing wasn’t right.” She waved her free hand again. “It doesn’t matter, neither were planned. Accidents have a way of taking care of themselves as Mother used to say. The point is: I can’t carry a baby. My history proved that.”

Larcher licked his lips and took off his glasses to clean them with the sleeve of his shirt. _Bad manners_ , she thought.

“Absolutely _nothing_ indicates you are going to have another miscarriage.” the doctor repeated.

“ _I know_ , isn’t it proof enough?” she snapped and then raised a shaky hand to her face. “My apologies.”

“It’s alright.” Larcher said, not unkindly. “You went through a lot of emotions in a short bout of time and your hormones are all over the place. It is perfectly understandable. Miss Trinket, I urge you not to think like this though.”

“How soon can you do the abortion?” she asked anyway.

She felt Haymitch bristle next to her. He snatched his hand back as if he had  been burned. “Effie…”

“Miss Trinket…” Larcher sighed at the same time, sounding weary. “I understand this pregnancy comes as a shock to you but if you do not want this baby… I beg you would consider other options than abortion. A lot of children died during the war. The demands for adoption are high. There are programs that allow you to choose the family you would entrust your child to. You can decide if you want the child to be able to have contact with you or not. It’s really…”

“I won’t carry to term.” Effie cut him off for the third time, through gritted teeth. “Why do you refuse to understand? _I won’t carry to term_.”

“He says you’re not going to lose it, don’t you think he knows better?” Haymitch spat with enough anger that she simply stopped talking. “Self denial is all well and good, sweetheart, but can you take your head out of your pretty ass and realize what’s going on here? You’re _pregnant_. With _our child_. _We’re_ _having a child_.”

“No, we are _not_.” she retorted, almost desperate.

“Yeah, well, tell that to the thing in your stomach!” he scowled.

“ _Uterus_.” she shot back, annoyed. “Have you no grasp on human anatomy at all?”

“ _Fuck_ _you_.” he sneered. “If you had said you could still have kids, we would have…”

“Oh, so this is _my_ fault, isn’t it?” she shouted. “This is _so_ typical of you! Did I get pregnant on my own? I am not the one who cannot keep it in their pants.”

“What are you saying, Princess? I forced you?” he laughed bitterly. “Always seemed eager to me.”

“You are the _absolute_ worst!” she screeched “I do not know…”

Doctor Larcher cleared his throat. “Now would be a good time to warn you that stress is bad for the baby.”

“We are _not_ having a baby!” Effie yelled. She horrified herself. Screaming like a banshee in public wasn’t like her. Causing a scene wasn’t like her. She covered her face with her hands and bowed a little, fighting a sob. “I apologize. I…”

“You’re tired.” Haymitch grumbled, gruff. “I’m tired too. Let’s go home. We can fight just as well there.”

She shook her head. “I want an abortion.”

Larcher sighed. “There is a week length delay before any abortion, baring special cases. It’s procedure. I want to see you back in a couple of days anyway to check on you.” The doctor stood up and Haymitch followed suit, shaking the doctor’s outstretched hand mechanically. “Think it over, Miss Trinket. And perhaps consider the adoption option. I will stop at your house let’s say… In three days? You can tell me what you’ve decided then and if you still wish to go through with an abortion we will schedule one for next week.”

She nodded weakly and let Haymitch help her to her feet, not quite listening to the list of things she should avoid that the doctor enumerated. Haymitch was attentive enough for both of them and the main part seemed to be: _rest_. All she hated in short. Her legs felt like jelly.

The sunlight almost blinded her when they stepped out of the clinic and she leaned against his side. People in the street shot them strange looks. They must have been a sight, Effie mused. She wasn’t wearing make-up and he was in pajamas with no shoes on…

“Tom!” he called out suddenly to a man in a cart pulled by a tired looking horse. She sympathized with the horse wholeheartedly. Haymitch left her side in a flash to exchange a few words with the man who glanced at her and eventually nodded with a smile. “He’s going to take us home.” Haymitch told her. She didn’t question it. She climbed in the cart and leaned against Haymitch’s side again. Angry or not, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her rest her head against his neck. She might have dozed off on the way because, next thing she was aware of, they were at the entrance to the Village. She thanked Tom profusely, to the point he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling that any friend of Katniss was a friend of his. That made her smile even brighter. “Breaking hearts everywhere you go, aren’t you?” Haymitch mocked when the cart was gone and they started the short walk from the iron gates to their house. His arm remained tightly wrapped around her shoulders and she thought that, _maybe_ , they would get through this. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted.” she answered frankly.

The children were in the middle of the street, talking to each other. Katniss was gesturing frantically and it was her who spotted them first. They were right next to them before Effie could blink.

“Where _were_ you?” the girl hissed. “We couldn’t find you _anywhere_! Never thought about warning us before taking off like that? We thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. You…”

“Not now.” Haymitch spat, pushing Katniss aside to support her inside the house.

“What’s going on?” Peeta asked, less aggressively. “Effie, are you alright?”

“I said _not now!”_ Haymitch shouted. He slammed the door in their faces.

“Rude.” she whispered. “Why do you _always_ have to be so rude…”

He didn’t gratify that with an answer. He helped her to the couch and disappeared long enough to come back with a mountain of blankets.

“You have to rest.” he told her. “You lie down and you do nothing all day.”

She rolled her eyes. “This is stupid. I…”

“ _You_ _rest_.” he barked. “It’s _your_ _health_. We’re not taking any chance with it. We’ll talk about everything else later.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” she sighed.

“There’s _plenty_ to talk about.” he retorted. “What do you want for breakfast?”

He actually loaded a tray for her with entirely too much food, her favorite tea and a glass of orange juice. She was almost impressed.

He hovered near the door, watching her eat until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “Go drink yourself into a stupor. We both know you are dying to.”

The tremors, if anything, were betraying him.

“You just want me out of your hair so you can do something reckless.” he accused.

“Send one of the children if you must.” she snapped. “But get _out_. I cannot bear you looking at me like that. You are not the only one who is scared and angry, Haymitch. I did not want this any more than you did.”

A shadow passed on his face and he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him again. She had no appetite so she didn’t touch what was left on the tray, reclining back on the couch and nursing the tea between her hands instead. She forced herself to keep her mind blank. She didn’t want to think about what had happened in the last twelve hours. She didn’t want to remember.

It wasn’t long before Katniss wandered in the living-room, a little wary. The girl’s face was all worry. “Effie, what’s going on? Haymitch says I have to stay with you and that I can’t let you get up but he won’t explain… Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine, dear. Haymitch is just being an idiot.” Effie sighed.

The girl was a little assuaged by that but not much and it took fifteen minutes of pleading before Effie was allowed to leave the couch to take a shower. She swallowed back her irritation at being treated like an invalid and guarded like a prisoner in a cell, she knew it came from a place of love so she tried not to be harsh with Katniss. Like Haymitch, the girl was terrified sick of losing someone else.

She kept the water lukewarm in the shower, not daring to use too hot water, and she didn’t linger. The state of the bedroom made her _tut-tutt_. She gathered the clothes Haymitch had tossed around the previous night to place them in the hamper. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed before leaving and she hoped he had had enough common sense to stick to the backyard or to the immediate surroundings of the house. She hated the idea of him wandering the District in his pajamas with no shoes on. Not only was it shameful but he would hurt himself.

She placed the soiled nightgown next to the door, ready to take it down to the trash can. She didn’t want to see it again. Then she undressed the bed mechanically, trying not to look at the blood. She heard the footsteps but didn’t have enough presence of mind to toss the blankets back to hide the stains and so she could only stare as Katniss stopped dead in her tracks, her grey eyes locked on the blood.

“I’m sorry.” the girl said. “You were taking a long time and…” She frowned. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you with his knife? Is that why he’s freaking out?”

That was a logical explanation but Effie shook her head, licking her lips and forcing a cheer in her voice. “I’m not hurt. It is nothing to worry about, just a simple medical problem. I am absolutely _fine_ , dear. Haymitch just had a scare last night, it will pass.”

“You’re sure?” Katniss frowned.

“Certain.” Effie smiled.

It was easy to pretend for the children. Easy to force a mask of bubbly contentment on her face and to sound cheerful. Katniss helped her change the sheets, humoring her by answering her chatter, sometimes rolling her eyes with fondness when she thought Effie couldn’t see. Effie squeezed her shoulder lightly when they were done, knowing the girl wouldn’t appreciate more effusions but needing to convey just how much she loved her all the same. Katniss smiled at her and suggested she should nap for a while.

“I’ll stay downstairs.” Katniss declared. “Shout if you need anything.”

“A lady never shouts, dear.” Effie reminded her, ignoring her own behavior from that morning.

A nap did her a lot of good. She felt better when she woke up, _rested_. Her head was clearer and she was surprised to realize she had been asleep most of the day.

Katniss was sitting at the kitchen table, working on her memory book. It always left Effie with a bittersweet feeling, that book. Haymitch was helping her add sections about the tributes he had lost over the years. She had shared a few memories but thinking about them was painful and she usually preferred staying clear of that particular project.

“Sit down.” Katniss offered immediately. “I’ll make you some tea. Or do you want coffee?”

She wanted some coffee very badly but… Her hand fluttered to her stomach and away just as quickly. She crushed the thought before it was even born. “Tea, if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you.”

She sat down while Katniss bustled behind her, putting the kettle to boil and taking out mugs out of the cupboard in a banging of faience. Her fingers inched closer to the memory book and dragged it toward her. She flipped through it, her eyes lingering on the familiar faces. She brushed her fingertips against Rue’s young face before flipping further back… They hadn’t managed to find pictures for all the tributes but Peeta was good enough of a painter that he could draw a close likeness from Haymitch’s descriptions…

It made her stomach churn.

She studied every face, not needing to glance at the names to remember them – the names were too familiar, she was used to reciting them in whispers sometimes. She would _never_ forget, she _could_ never forget, she owed it to them. She stopped on her very first pair of tributes. Stella, the girl had been called. She had been fourteen and an absolute _darling_. Effie had loved her very much. Peeta’s drawing didn’t completely match her memories but it was enough to make her close the book and push it away.

“Are you alright?” Katniss asked, worried.

“Perfectly fine, dear.” she hummed around the lump in her throat.

_So many dead children_ … And most of them because her fingers had clasped the wrong piece of paper.

_No more_ , she vowed, _no more_.

She had done enough ill to children.

They drank their tea mostly in silence. Katniss kept working, adding entries to Finnick’s space thanks to some letters Johanna and Annie had sent, sometimes glancing up at her. Effie noticed the looks but pretended she didn’t see. She stared at the wall and mused that the paint was cracking and that they really should replace it. Perhaps paint it in a more joyful color than the light brown it currently was.

Eventually, Peeta showed up. His worry morphed into relief when he saw her up and about. She told him the same half-lie she had told Katniss and the boy gradually relaxed when he realized she wasn’t in pain or about to keel over and die.

The children were _darlings_.

They refused to let her do anything, insisting that she should relax on the couch while they did the dishes from the previous day and dressed the table for that night’s dinner. Katniss hadn’t gone hunting so there was no fresh meat but Peeta chopped vegetables for a soup. She listened to them laugh in the kitchen from the living-room and couldn’t help but smile. They were sweet, behaving as young people in love did. She liked watching them. It was good to remember some happiness had come out of the whole mess.

The hour grew late though and Haymitch didn’t show up in time for dinner.

Worry started to grow in the pit of her stomach but she dismissed it. He would come back – drunk as a skunk, no doubt, but he _would_ come back. They ate in silence on her insistence that they shouldn’t wait any longer.

Around eleven p.m. she started to fret though, thinking he might have passed out drunk somewhere – or _worse_. She worried her fingers and bit on her bottom lip until Peeta took pity on her and offered to go looking for him.

She nodded eagerly, grateful beyond words.

Katniss tried to reassure her, joking about Haymitch having forgotten to look at his watch.

“You know how he is.” the girl scoffed.

She knew.

That was the reason she was worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving me feedback! And note that there won't be a chapter next week because I'm not here neither Saturday nor Sunday ;)


	3. Five Weeks (2)

Contrary to popular belief, Haymitch Abernathy didn’t spend too much time at the bar, mainly because Twelve’s bar – a new addition dating from the rebuilding – was the main meeting place of all the young people in the District and Haymitch liked to drink _in peace_.

There were exceptions though and today was one of those days.

He had been slumped on the table in the corner for hours, sometimes managing to wake up enough to request another refill.

He was wasted, _completely_ wasted, and he wasn’t sure how exactly he would get home.

He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to get home.

Going to the bar had also been a way of escaping the situation.

He didn’t want to face Effie right now. He didn’t want to face the way things were. Hearing that they were expecting a child had been enough of a shock, hearing her almost begging for an abortion practically on the spot had been like a slap in the face.

He didn’t know how he felt.

He didn’t know _if_ he felt anything at all.

He had been numb ever since the doctor had told them. He had left the room and had stepped outside the hospital, instinctively seeking fresh air only to puke everything he had in his stomach in sheer terror. Then he had sat down and he had tried to process everything only to draw a blank.

“Hey.”

A hand fell on his shoulder and he looked up through half closed eyes at the boy who was staring at him with disappointment. Peeta always looked disappointed when he caught him wasted. It made Haymitch feel _ashamed_.

Would he feel the same way if his own kid…

“Come on.” the boy sighed. “Let’s get you home before Effie truly loses it.”

The words made him sit straight. He grabbed Peeta’s arm – too hard if the wince was anything to go by – and shook it, trying to get his attention and to haul himself up at the same time. “Did she lose it?” he asked with urgency, almost falling over in his attempt to get to his feet.

“Careful!” Peeta chided him, wrapping Haymitch’s arm over his shoulders and grabbing him around the waist. It was a good thing the boy was so strong, he could take Haymitch’s weight. “If you mean is she going to kill you when she sees the state you’re in, yes, I think that’s a fair bet.”

He blinked and automatically put a foot in front of the other when Peeta dragged him out of the bar, shouting a last goodbye to the owner. He supposed the boy had paid his tab.

“But did she _lose_ it?” he pressed. “She’s alright? _Hurt_?”

“Hurt? No… Why would she be hurt?” the boy frowned. “Katniss said she was sick last night but she seemed fine to me earlier.”

“I… I don’t want her to lose it.” he confessed in a rush, surprising even himself. “It’s here now. I don’t want her to lose it. I don’t want her to be in pain. I don’t…”

“Okay, you’ve lost _me_. What is she supposed to lose?” Peeta panted, adjusting his grip on him. “Can you make an effort, here?” Haymitch tried. He tried to walk straight, he tried to walk by himself… He almost toppled over after three steps. He heaved after five and Peeta stepped away right in time to avoid getting splashed. “Well, better out than in.” the boy commented, wrinkling his nose, while Haymitch threw up.

“The baby.” he mumbled, once he was done dry-heaving.

There was an instant of shocked silence behind him and then Peeta hauled him up again.

“You mean she’s…” the boy hesitated. “Effie is _pregnant_?”

“I can’t lose her.” he begged. “I can’t… I can’t, boy…” He was almost sobbing. It was the alcohol talking, of course, but he was relieved all the same when Peeta accepted his bear hug, terrified as he was he needed to cling to something. “What if she loses it and she bleeds to death?” he panicked. “What if there’s a problem? What if _she dies_? Maybe she’s right… Maybe we should get rid of it…”

“Get rid of the baby?” Peeta frowned, clearly having troubles following his line of thoughts. “You want her to get an abortion?”

He shook his head immediately and it was so instinctive, just as instinctive as his recoil when she had first mentioned it, that he wondered when he had made his mind on that point. He kept on shaking his head, confused by his own thoughts. “I don’t know… I don’t… I just can’t lose her…”

“I know.” the boy offered, gently escaping his death like grip to prompt him onward again. “You just need to sober up. Everything will be clearer once you’re sober. And you need to talk to Effie, Haymitch. You _really_ need to. I think a baby is wonderful news! Don’t you?”

Haymitch followed his lead, shoulders slumped, completely defeated, and forgot to answer. He would have thought that it was what Effie would say too. He would have thought she would welcome the idea of having a child of her own. Her insistence that she was going to lose it… Her insistence that she wanted an abortion… It threw him.

Before long, they reached the slope to the Victors Village. He was welcomed home by the honking of the geese he had forgotten to feed all day and he was starting to feel dizzy again. He hadn’t eaten all day either.

“Oh, thanks goodness!” Effie exclaimed as soon as they stepped inside. “I was starting to get _truly_ worried.” His sight was blurred and his head was spinning but he felt her hands reaching out for him, grabbing his arm, tightening her grip to the point it almost hurt. “Oh, the state you are in… When I said you could _go drunk yourself into a stupor_ I did not mean it _literally_ , you stupid man!”

“Not supposed to stress.” he reminded her in a mumble because it seemed the only important thing at that moment.

She huffed at that and tried to help Peeta drag him upstairs but the boy was adamant she shouldn’t carry weight. There was a small argument before the boy shot a pointed glance at her stomach and she abruptly withdrew, as if burned. She was frosty after Peeta had dropped him on their bed and wasn’t very subtle when she suggested the children should go home.

“You told him.” she accused a few minutes later, once the kids were gone and she was back upstairs with him.

“Don’t know…” he blinked. She forced him to sit up for a couple of seconds, so she could slip the shirt off his body. “Don’t remember…”

“You cannot go around telling people, Haymitch.” she snapped. “What is the point? It will only lead to more questions when…” She shook her head, sighed, and tugged his pants off. He tried to lift his hips to help but he didn’t quite manage. It didn’t matter, she was very practiced in the art of undressing and dressing a drunk man. “Your feet must hurt.” she commented once she had taken off his socks. Alcohol was dulling the pain but he figured they would indeed hurt the next day. He had been walking around without shoes and the roads weren’t exactly paved. “We need to clean this.”

The _we_ turned out to mean _Effie_ needed to clean the wounds because he could do nothing but fight sleep and watch as she dabbed at the small cuts on the soles of his feet and wrapped them in white gauze.

“You’re great at this.” he said.

“Nursing?” she snorted. “I would not say it is a vocation but, with you, one learns a lot of things along the way. Do you remember the time you managed to cut your palm and refused to go to the Games Clinic? I had never seen that much blood before. I thought I would _faint_.”

“You bandaged it.” he slurred. “You took care of me. You always take care of me…”

“Yes, well…” she sighed. “It is my job, isn’t it?”

“Not anymore.” he reminded her.

“Now more than ever.” she retorted, briefly coiling a hand around his ankle. “We will get through this, Haymitch, I _swear_ we will.”

He watched her but didn’t offer an answer. He tried to make her life easier when she helped him into clean sweatpants and another long-sleeved shirt and didn’t protest when she nudged him under the covers. She had changed the sheets, he vaguely noted.

“I mean taking care of people.” he eventually clarified. “You’re good at that. Being kind, _motherly_.”

She licked her lips, tucked the sheets to his chin and then muttered something about getting ready for bed. She disappeared – or fled, rather – in the bathroom where she remained for too long. He fought off sleep as long as he could but eventually succumbed to the alcohol’s power and drifted off.

The soft click of the bedside lamp being turned off was enough to wake him though. He heard her sniffing in the dark.

“You’re crying?” he frowned.

“No, of course not. Why would I be crying?” she scoffed, but her voice was husky. She scooted backward, closer to him, until her back was pressed against his arm. “Could you hold me?”

He immediately rolled on his side and spooned her: an arm bent under his pillow, her head resting right above his elbow, his knees against her thighs until she shifted so she could trap one of his legs between hers and his other arm wrapped around her waist. He placed his hand on her stomach. He didn’t know why. She linked their fingers together and, for a while, he waited for her to speak, to _say_ something.

She remained silent.

So he fell asleep.

He woke up with the mother of all headaches, a fuzzy mouth and a full bladder. They had moved during the night and Effie was now burrowed against his side, her head tucked under his shoulder, in a nest of blankets. He almost snorted at that. She liked to call _him_ a blankets thief but, really, she was the one who always ended up under a mountain of them.

He had to maneuver carefully not to wake her as he got out of the bed but he succeeded, hissing in pain as soon as he put his weight on his right foot. He rummaged around for his slippers and found it a little easier to walk with them but not by much. He stopped in the bathroom to relieve himself, grabbed painkillers and his woolen dressing gown and then he made his way downstairs. He expected Effie to be up by that point – because she was always awake at the crack of dawn – but she didn’t even stir, barely rolled on her other side with an unhappy groan.

It was late, almost mid-morning and the sun was glaring. How could it be so glaring and cold at the same time he didn’t know but if September was that chilly, he didn’t want to think about how freezing winter would be. The empty kitchen was uninviting.

He brought the antic coffee maker to life. There was a brand new one next to it, all shining chrome, but Effie and the kids were the only ones who knew how to use it. There were too many buttons and it was too complicated. The coffee was better, true, but it wasn’t worth the aggravation. It was quieter than his, though, and he resented the loud buzzing of the machine as he opened cupboards to fix himself some breakfast. He was nauseous but he knew it came from hunger, he was familiar with that very particular feeling.

They were out of fresh eggs. He fed the geese and let them out in the yard before picking up some. The birds were unhappy with him but he was unhappy with life in general so he thought fair was fair.

He had just taken the scrambled eggs off the stove when Effie appeared with a bad case of bed hair and  a wrinkled nose.

“What are you doing? The whole house stinks.” she complained.

“Nothing.” he grumbled. “I’ve been cooking breakfast.”  

He placed a plate at her usual seat at the table but she abruptly stepped back, pursing her lips really tight.

“They’re _off_.” she said. “Can’t you _smell_ it?”

He blinked and then looked down at the eggs he had managed not to burn for once. “I just picked them up. They’re good, sweetheart.”

“They stink.” she argued, placing a hand over her nose and rushing to open the window. Cold air immediately swept in. “Actually, I have been meaning to talk to you about this. I already had to throw some away a few days ago. Perhaps your birds are ill.” He lifted his eyebrows, stabbed the eggs with a fork and brought it to his mouth. She gasped. “ _Don’t_! You will be sick!”

“They’re _good_ , sweetheart.” he repeated with a frown. “Close this window before we both catch our death.”

“If I close this window _I_ will be sick. How can you stand this smell, I have no idea.” she huffed, going around her morning routine of grabbing a mug and pouring herself some coffee. Her fingers closed on the coffee pot and then she let go just as quickly, grabbing the kettle and putting it to boil instead. “Oh…” she said flatly. “Never mind. I understand now.” She closed the window just enough that some air would still filter through and sat at the very end of the table, as far from him as she could.

“Good for you, ‘cause I don’t.” he snorted, shaking his head at her eccentricities.

“It doesn’t like eggs.” she offered quietly.

“Oh.” he echoed stupidly.

The mood turned awkward and Haymitch stood up, forgetting his eggs to go grab the leftover of bread from the day before. “You want some toasts? You need to eat something…”

It wasn’t exactly normal for him to offer to make her breakfast. He was usually the one doing the cooking – because the last time she had tried she had almost set the whole kitchen on fire – but breakfast was more her thing because she was always up at ungodly hours.

“Do we have strawberry jam?” she asked, perking up. “I feel a bit nauseous but I wouldn’t mind some toasts with strawberry jam.” 

He checked in the cupboard only to observe they were low on practically everything. “We’ve got blueberry.”

She pouted. “Never mind, then. Just a toast with some butter, please.”

He brought her the toasts and the butter and he even brought her the tea pot once the kettle boiled. When he sat down to eat, his eggs were cold. She munched on her toast slowly, cutting it to small pieces as if she was a bird who only ate crumbs. The silence was heavy but she didn’t seem to notice, she was staring in the distance, a vacant look in her eyes. He ate her plate of eggs just because he wanted something to do to delay the inevitable _talk_ they needed to have. At some point though, there were no more excuses to be found. He opened his mouth only to realize he lacked the courage to actually address the problem.

He wordlessly stood up, grabbed a bottle from the cupboard and headed to the back porch. Her eyes tracked him but she didn’t make any attempt to hold him back. He sat on the old wooden steps and stared at his geese, almost envious of the simplicity of their lives. He only brought the bottle to his lips twice. The hangover was still strong and he didn’t feel the need for liquor yet. He simply needed the comfort of holding some in his hand. He stretched his legs in front of him in an effort to relieve his aching soles.

He couldn’t have said how long had passed but when she stepped out and sat next to him on the stairs, she was dressed for the day. Her blue coat was open over a pale yellow dress he liked because the fabric usually flooded around her legs. He wondered if she had chosen an outfit he liked on purpose. The stairs weren’t large, their arms were pressed together.

“There is no point freaking out over something that won’t happen.” she stated softly.

“When do we freak out, then?” he scowled. “In eight months? When something pops out of you?”

She licked her lips and studied her silver painted nails. The nails, like the outfits and the bubbly attitude she always showed in public, were part of the act. She pretended _so hard_ she was still the same woman she used to be…

The stay in the Capitol cells had changed her, you didn’t go through something _that_ traumatic and remain the same.

However, he allowed her the pretence more often than not because she was still trying to figure out who she was _now_. She wasn’t an escort anymore, she wasn’t truly a Capitol citizen either – there was no place for her there, she couldn’t fit in now – she certainly wasn’t the hit girl that had brought the Capitol to its knees in her youth… She was scarred, both inside and out, she was plagued with flashbacks and panic attacks, she was slowly adjusting to living in a District where luxury was simply a word…

“Haymitch, it won’t…” she sighed, her eyes still glued to her nails. “Why can’t you _understand_ …”

“Understand _what_?” he growled. “’Cause I’m _trying_ , Effie, I’m _really_ trying but denial isn’t your scene, it’s mine, so what are you playing at here? You think if you burry your head in the sand deep enough the whole thing will go away?”

She briefly pressed her fingertips against her forehead. “It _will_ go away. I… won’t wait until I lose it. This week delay for an abortion is ridiculous. In the Capitol…”

“Yeah, well, the Capitol has always been eager to kill kids, hasn’t it?” he snarled.

She recoiled as if she had been slapped but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty.

She swallowed hard and looked away. “This is not a child yet. It is a clutter of cells.”

“I’m not against abortion, sweetheart, you can save the speech.” he shrugged.

“Then why…” she frowned.

“ _Because_.” he cut her off and then took a mouthful of liquor. Liquid courage. “Because clutter of cells or not, I’ve started thinking of it as _our kid_ and I can’t…” He rubbed his face. “I _can’t_. We lost too many.”

She brought her own hands to her face and covered it for a few seconds. When she dropped them, her eyes were bright with unshed tears and her fingers were shaking. “We are going to lose this one too eventually. I had two miscarriages, Haymitch. _Two_. I _kill_ children. That is all I ever did, that is how I will be remembered, even my body knows it and I cannot… I _cannot_ go through that with _yours_ , I _cannot_.”

“The doctor said everything is _normal_.” he argued.

“ _Two miscarriages_.” she repeated in a tired whisper. “You have no idea how it feels. It is not the pain, it is the… _The_ _loss_.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even want them but then… Then they were _gone_ and it was… I do not know how you can feel so sad over something you didn’t even know was there but you have no idea how much it hurts, how empty I…”

She stopped talking. He grabbed her hand because he hated seeing her suffer, he hated the anguish she was going through.

“And you think an abortion is going to be any different?” he asked. Because if it was about that… If it was about sparing her _pain_ – physical or otherwise…

“No…” she answered tiredly. “No, but at least I won’t wake up in a pool of blood again, alone and terrified. The first time was the worst, you know. I didn’t even know I was pregnant and then…” She shrugged, something she hardly ever did. “It was for the best. I was eighteen. Mother would have _killed_ me if I had come home with a baby in me and no ring on my finger. She would have forced me to abort the pregnancy or she would have casted me out… Either way it _was_ for the best. I hardly ever think about it. It is just a fleeting thought now and then. But the second one… The second one was more difficult.”

“Sixty-sixth Hunger Games.” he recalled from the previous day.

“Yes…” she drawled out. “I was seeing this stylist, do you remember? Hactus?”

He had lost count of how many boyfriends and fiancés she had had over the years. He only knew one year he had thrown a fit and there had never been any other man but him, which was only fair since he had stopped sleeping with other women around the same time.

“You’re sure it wasn’t mine then?” he insisted. “I won’t get angry, Princess. I just wanna know.”

“I am _certain_.” she promised. “I wondered when I found out I was pregnant but it had more to do with me wishing it was yours than actual math. It couldn’t have been. I was… happy about it all the same. It was _a chance_ at something else, a chance at getting out of the Games… I think I would have taken it.”

“Yeah.” he simply offered, gently squeezing her fingers once. He understood. Once in the Games, always in the Games. He had known a good number of escorts and Gamemakers who would have liked a way out. No one was made to stomach such atrocities on a long term basis. 

“I lost it.” she whispered. “I lost it and… I was not quite used to the idea yet but I was starting to like it. It was harder that time.” She shook her head. “I do not want to talk about it anymore.”

“Alright.” he accepted. “But we need to talk about _ours_ , Effie. We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”

She closed her eyes. “I am going to lose it.”

“You don’t _know_ that.” he sighed, slowly losing patience on that front. “The doctor said…”

“I am a _child killer_.” she cut him off. “What does your Doctor Larcher know about _that_?”

“What do you want me to say? That those kids’ blood isn’t on your hands?” he snapped. “You want me to lie?”

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I know what I have done. I know…”

“I don’t think you do.” he scorned. “Someone would have reaped the kids anyway. Yeah, it was _you_ so that makes you partly responsible for their death but if it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. And those kids, they’re on me too, alright? You’re not the only one responsible. It’s you, and me, and Snow, and the Gamemakers and whoever murdered them. It’s too complicated to start laying blame at everyone’s door, sweetheart. Just accept what you’ve done, acknowledge it, and learn how to live with it.”

“I have been living with it for fifteen years.” she growled. “Do you think I did not start feeling guilty after the first ones? Do you think…”

“I know.” he cut her off. “ _I know_.” He did. He had been right next to her while she took the journey from _brainwashed spoiled brat_ to _awaken diva_. “There was nothing else you could have done. You tried the best for the kids. You had to play the Games or you would have gotten killed.”

“Would that have been so terrible?” she chuckled bitterly.

He squeezed her hand so hard it must have hurt. She looked startled when she gazed up at him.

“I needed you.” he reminded her. “Those kids needed you.” He only knew a handful of escorts who had tried as hard as Effie had. Maybe it had been dedication, maybe it had been atonement… He could still remember her tears of joy and relief when Katniss and Peeta had been declared victors. “The Games are over. The war is over. We have to put all this behind us and learn how to live in peace for the children’s sake. You told me that yourself.”

She had ranted and ranted for _hours_ on the phone when she had found out he wasn’t looking after Katniss himself but had sent Greasy Sae instead. She had nagged and nagged and lectured him about fresh starts and second chances…

Of course, she hadn’t been following up on her own advices left alone in the Capitol but her words had shaken Haymitch. He and the kids had slowly started building a routine after that: Katniss hunted, Peeta baked and he raised geese until the next shipment of liquor arrived. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop but the government seemed to hold, led by Paylor, and his mistrust had slowly started to fade. He was even beginning to think they had truly won.

“I try.” she confessed. “But it is difficult. I always had nightmares about tributes but… With the war and…” She never actually said the words _torture_ and this time was no exception, she eluded it. “It has grown worse.”

“Maybe you should start talking to a shrink again.” he suggested hesitantly. “It helped the boy.” It hadn’t helped Katniss and _he_ had put his foot down with a loud _no_ when Plutarch had hinted that he too could perhaps consult, but Effie and Peeta weren’t like him and Katniss. They liked to talk their feelings out.

“Perhaps.” she granted without too much enthusiasm. “You…” She sighed. “You really do _not_ want me to get an abortion?”

He took his time answering that, following the fattest goose with his eyes.

“It was my first thought too.” he admitted. “Just get rid of it and pretend it never happened but… The more I was thinking, the more I realized… Like it or not, it’s here, it’s _ours,_ so…” He shrugged. “It’s your body, at the end of the day. If you really don’t want it…”

“I really don’t want _to miscarriage_ again.” she clarified.

“Because you’re scared of waking up alone and terrified in a puddle of blood, yeah, I get it.” he said. “You won’t ever be alone again, though. _You_ get that, right? We do this, we do it together.” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s just I don’t… I guess I don’t want to _make the move_ to get rid of it, you know?”

“And when we lose it?” she asked.

“ _If_ we lose it, at least we tried.” he answered. “Won’t hold it against you or some _shit_ if that’s the question. Who do you take me for?”

“ _Language_.” she chided him, distracted. “Fine. Let’s say I _do not_ lose it. You do not want children, Haymitch, _we_ do not want children. And I am not saying this to be mean, please understand this, but you are an alcoholic and I can barely take care of myself right now… What sort of life will we give this child? Isn’t it cruel and irresponsible to bring a baby into this world when neither of us will be able to take proper care of it?”

The words hurt more than they ought, mainly because they rang true. He hadn’t been thinking much further than the pregnancy problem. Children were fragile things. Children died. He had known that for as long as he could remember. And he didn’t have a particularly good record at protecting his family, blood related or adopted.

“I don’t know.” he confessed, letting go of her hand to turn the bottle between his fingers. “Larcher said something about adoption…”

“You would give our child up?” she frowned. Her hands flew to her stomach almost protectively.

“I don’t know.” he repeated. “I’m just saying maybe it’s worth looking into. Give him his best chance…” She pursed her lips, a dull spark in her gaze at the prospect, and he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re getting worked up about putting him up for adoption but you would go and get an abortion?”

She blinked and looked at him, _really_ looked at him. She seemed old suddenly despite the make-up, old and tired

“This is a mess…” she whispered. “This is all such a mess…”

“Yeah.” he granted. “But we’ll pull through. We always do. We’re still a team, right?”

He offered his hand, palm up.

She stared at it for a few seconds and then placed her hand in his before resting her head against his shoulder.

“We won’t get an abortion.” she surrendered after a couple of minutes.

“You’re sure?” he asked, feeling strangely guilty to be relieved about it.

“Yes. If it means so much to you that we try, we will try.” she promised. “You shouldn’t get attached to it though. It won’t be any different than the last two times.”

It occurred to him that this whole conversation wasn’t how it was supposed to be. In another universe, he was sure he was the one raging while she was trying to convince him everything would be alright.

She was the one who had always hoped despite the odds… And it seemed she had lost that ability in prison.

It didn’t mean Haymitch particularly wanted this new situation or its consequences. It didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified _shitless_ of something going wrong or that he had any clue as to how to deal with a pregnant woman. He wasn’t even sure he could _handle_ it.

He just knew he had to try.

“Maybe everything will go well.” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Wouldn’t that actually be even more complicated?” she asked.

“You’re complicated.” he retorted. “My affair with you was complicated. Sometimes good things come out of _complicated_ …”

She hummed but didn’t commit to anything, pulling on a loose thread on his woolen dressing gown instead. “You _truly_ need to get dressed, Haymitch, enough wandering around the District in your pajamas. What will people think of me, letting you walk around in that state?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not wandering, I’m sitting in my backyard.”

“Perhaps, but we need to go out.” she declared. “I want to go to the market to pick up strawberry jam and I want to look at some cans of paint. Oh, and maybe we could sell the rest of the eggs. I really do not think I want to smell eggs until the situation is resolved.”

He took that in stride, choosing not to comment on the _situation_ part.

“Paint.” he frowned. “Paint for what?”

His mind had already jumped to _nurseries_ and everything a baby might need – he was clueless about that, past the crib. He wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she was already thinking about it, except she had been very clear she didn’t want to be hopeful just yet and it seemed…

“The kitchen.” she sighed. “We are painting _the kitchen_. I decided yesterday.”

“Thanks for asking for my opinion.” he grumbled.

“You weren’t home.” she countered, straightening up and smoothing her dress. “I was thinking pale yellow. What do you think?”

“As long as it’s not pink…” he shrugged, grabbing the wooden rail to haul himself up.

When she had an idea in mind, there was no arguing anyway.


	4. Six Weeks

Tired of lying down on their bed and staring at the wall, Effie wandered downstairs. She still felt nauseous but that was quickly becoming the norm in the mornings. She hadn’t actually been sick yet though, which, as she understood it, was something to be grateful about. The nausea was something she could have done without anyway. It had gotten worse in the last couple of days, to the point she had taken to lying down until it was over.

Larcher claimed it was normal, that everything was going as expected and she should take it easy and stop worrying.

She would have loved to do nothing else but it wasn’t _that_ simple.

She felt sluggish that day. She struggled to zip her dress up and she couldn’t decide if it was because she had gained weight or because nightmares had kept her up the previous night and she was too tired to be deft.

She bypassed the kitchen entirely, allowing herself a small smile when she heard the familiar voices chatting inside, knowing if she ventured in there she would get scolded. Apparently, the paint fumes were bad for her _in her condition_ – she was starting to hate those words because everyone seemed particularly fond of them: “No, Effie, in your condition you should rest.”, “Sweetheart, you can’t carry groceries bags in your condition.”, “Shopping? In your condition? You’re mad?”… Listening to Haymitch and the children, you’d think she had come down with the plague not… _the other thing_.

It had taken Haymitch a week to finally start repainting the kitchen, time enough for his soles to heal, and he had enlisted Peeta’s help – for which Effie _was_ grateful because she honestly trusted the boy with a paintbrush a lot more than she did Haymitch.

She dropped on the couch, trying and failing to ignore the surrounding mess. She hadn’t been as insistent on keeping a tidy house as she usually was and it showed. The rug was off center, there were wood chips around the fireplace from when Haymitch had stocked up logs beside it, and the coffee table was cluttered. There were at least two dirty mugs, half a dozen books on pregnancy and what to expect – Haymitch’s initiative, she didn’t want to even crack one open, she still thought there was no point – a forgotten hair tie from the previous night and, on the very edge, untouched since Doctor Larcher had brought them, a couple of leaflets about adoption agencies.

The urge to throw everything away – books and brochures alike – was tenacious but she refrained.

Some days, she regretted agreeing to this. The waiting was killing her. She was caught in a bad limbo of expectation.

She caught herself with her hand on her stomach and took it away.

It was ridiculous to do that.

Her stomach was still flat, not a bump to be seen, but she had never quite managed to gain back the weight she had lost in the Capitol’s cells. Larcher had seemed satisfied with her diet but had recommended that she ate when she was hungry regardless of the time, collations in between meals were more than fine apparently if only to keep her sugar levels up. Effie had spent her whole life avoiding such extravagances to remain fit and now she was expected to stuff herself. There were vitamins to take too, pretty pink pills that looked like candy but that often stayed stuck in her throat when she swallowed them.

There were some exclamations in the kitchen, a new voice joining in, and, before long, Katniss showed up in the living-room, dropping her game bag on the floor, waving a small yellow plastic bottle.

“I got you this from town.” the girl said without even a hello. “It’s lemon juice. If you drink some with your tea, it should reduce the nausea.”

Effie perked up at that piece of news and snatched the little bottle from her hand. “Truly? Oh, I need to try _now_ …”

Katniss glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen and wrinkled her nose. “They’re almost done but I don’t think we can go in there yet. Let’s go to my house, I’ll make you some tea.”

Effie stood up without a single moment of hesitation, to the girl’s obvious amusement. Katniss grabbed her bag and stopped in the kitchen while Effie put on her coat and wrapped a silk scarf around her throat.

“I’m taking Effie home with me.” the girl said in the other room.

“She feels better?” Haymitch’s voice replied, clearly frowning. “She wasn’t feeling good. She’s sure she’s up to going out?”

“You _really_ need to stop acting like a mother hen, Haymitch.” Katniss retorted.

“Yes, you _really_ do.” Effie muttered under her breath, safe from being heard.

The walk to the children’s house was a short one but Effie was still relieved to reach the flowery backyard free from monstrous birds full of teeth. She tired easily those days – another thing that was apparently normal, as early as _the situation_ was yet. She put the kettle to boil while Katniss quickly put her game in the fridge. She was careful not to look because the sight of dead adorable animals like squirrels made her nauseous for entirely different reasons – she didn’t need to know what sort of meat was in her stew or what it looked like before it was minced cubes.

She chatted absentmindedly about nonsensical things, not exactly minding Katniss’ silence because that was the norm. She kept up the one-sided conversation over the cup of tea, even if the girl was only giving monosyllabic answers, not really interested, she supposed, by the difference between frills and lace. Effie realized, once her cup was empty, that she indeed felt much better.

“This is _miraculous_.” she beamed at the small bottle of lemon juice. She even reached out and snatched a cupcake from the plate in the middle of the table. Peeta baked a lot when he had episodes and Effie figured one must have occurred the previous night. It was a chocolate cupcake and the noise she made when the melted chocolate core touched her tongue was clearly improper. Katniss’ lips twitched with amusement but she didn’t comment – small mercies, Haymitch wouldn’t have had that tact. “Was it your mother’s idea?” she asked curiously.

She would never have thought of using lemon.

“No, it was Annie’s.” Katniss shrugged, bringing her own cup to her lips. “She said it helped when she was pregnant with Finn.”

Her hand – and the cupcake – froze halfway to her mouth. She slowly placed it back down on the table, her mouth suddenly parched. “Did you tell Annie?”

The girl frowned, clearly confused for a second before realization dawned on her face. “Oh, sorry! You wanted to tell her yourself? It’s just that Jo called and we were talking and…”

“You told _Johanna_?” she cut her off very rudely, feeling her heart starting to race in her chest. That couldn’t be good for the… It would certainly not help _the_ _situation_. She tried to regulate her breathing but she felt the telltale prickling in her fingers and she knew without a doubt there would be no avoiding a panic attack. She supposed it had been overdue. Not in front of Katniss, though. Certainly _never_ in front of Katniss. “Dear, could you go fetch Haymitch for me?” she requested in as calm a voice as she could muster.

The girl was already out of her chair, a hand on her shoulder, all wide grey eyes. “Are you alright?”

Effie grabbed the edge of the table, trying to focus on the yellow bottle instead of her quickly tunneling vision.

“Perfectly.” she spat between two heavy breaths. “Please, go fetch Haymitch.”

Katniss hesitated and then nodded, scurrying away like a spooked rabbit.

As soon as she was alone, Effie buried her face in her hands and tried to calm down. There was no calming down though. Her fingers were shaking, she was dizzy… Her balance was precarious and she eased herself off the chair and to the floor before she could fall and break something… The sound of her blood rushing in her ears was deafening, it covered her loud desperate panting for breath…

She was abruptly scooped up from the cold floor and carried away – which didn’t help her dizziness in the slightest – until she was placed down on something soft that she supposed to be the couch. She was forced in a sitting position, steadied by two hands on her arms, and, when she opened her eyes, Haymitch was kneeling in front of her. His mouth was moving but she couldn’t hear his voice. She wanted to cry but she knew it would only make it worse. Eventually, he let go of her arms to frame her face with his hands.

_Breathe_

She read the word on his lips.

She focused on him, trying to match _his_ breathing. There was a streak of yellow paint on his forehead and so much worry in his grey eyes…

“It’s okay, sweetheart…” he coaxed softly. “You just breathe. You’re safe. You’re with me. I won’t let anything hurt you. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

She wondered what it meant that they were so used to coaching each other through panic attacks and night terrors.

It took several more minutes before her breathing completely came back to normal and it was only then that he hauled himself off the floor and sat next to her on the couch. She slumped against him and he wrapped his arms around her.

“The children?” she asked in a still weak voice.

“Back home.” he answered, dropping a kiss on her head. “Katniss said it looked like a panic attack. I didn’t think you would want them to see.”

“Thank you.” she whispered, closing her eyes and burying her face in his neck.

“What was the trigger?” he prompted, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

“Everyone knows.” she replied, shutting her eyes tighter at the thought. “Katniss told Annie and Johanna and… _Everyone_ _will know_.”

Everyone would know when the situation would eventually resolve itself and she would lose it. They would have to explain. They would have to…

Her breathing started quickening again.

“It’s just Jo and Annie.” Haymitch shrugged. “They’re family.”

“You do _not_ understand!” she snarled, pushing herself away from him. “You do not…”

“Okay, okay… I don’t understand. But you need to calm down. Right now.” he cut her off. “Hyperventilating is no good for you and it can’t be good for the baby.”

“Don’t call it that!” she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to call him? A _fucking_ body-squatter?”

She ran a hand over her face, not even caring about her make-up at that point. “Don’t get attached to it.”

“I’m not…” he argued and then stopped. “Alright, let’s calm down, yeah? You’re just tired…”

“I am _not_ tired!” she argued, raising her voice in frustration. “Stop saying I am _this_ and _that_! Stop acting as if you have a clue about what is going on with me! Stop! _Stop_!” Tears burned her eyes and she immediately felt guilty. She reached for his arm, coiling her fingers around his wrist. “I am sorry. I am sorry, I do not know… I am _sorry_.”  

He was watching her with wariness and a little hint of amusement. “You’re going to hit me if I say you’re hormonal?”

She sniffed. “I might.”

Buttercup wandered in the living-room and paused to study them. He must have decided they weren’t much of a threat because he crept closer, jumped on the couch and made himself at home next to her. She carefully outstretched her hand and let him inspect it before scratching his head.

“You’re supposed to avoid cats.” he said. She turned her head to look at him with a puzzled look and he shrugged. “Some books say it’s better.”

“Are you an expert on pregnancies now?” she asked with some resentment.

He averted his eyes, his jaw clenched. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. I want to be prepared. You’re at week six so you may have nausea, maybe dizziness, your hormones are all over the place so I should be ready to you crying, laughing and shouting in the same fifteen minutes.  You might be constipated…”

“Haymitch!” she hissed, flushing red. “You _really_ do not discuss _this_ with a lady.”

“Everyone poops, sweetheart.” he scoffed.

“Be that as it may, I do not wish to discuss it.” she retorted.

“Fine.” he taunted. “You’re a lady and you only poop rainbows and butterflies like a _bloody_   unicorn.”

The urge to grab a cushion and slap his face with it was strong but she managed to refrain. “Did you learn all this by heart?”

His amusement turned to seriousness again. “I want to know what’s normal so I know if you’re okay or not. I want to make sure you’re alright.” He brushed his hand against her face. “I can’t let anything bad happen to you. _I can’t_.”

She covered his hand with hers and kept it in place. “What else… What else do they say in your books?”

He was hesitant when he brought his free hand to her stomach. “He’s about half an inch now and he’s starting to develop. Fingers and…”

“Stop.” she ordered, letting go of the hand on her cheek to grab the one on her stomach. She didn’t push it away, not really. She wanted to but she couldn’t. It was the oddest dilemma. “I do not want to hear this. I do not want to… When we lose it, it will be… I don’t want to know.”

His thumb ran on her stomach and she breathed out loudly.

“You really need to stop thinking like that, sweetheart.” he whispered. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“I will get hurt either way.” she retorted. “I _cannot bear_ to hope only to… You are the one who spent years telling not to hope for those children and now… Why are _you_ hoping? And _what_ are you even hoping _for?_ ”

His face softened even more. “Effie, this child isn’t a tribute. It’s different.”

“No, it is not.” she argued. “I cannot be trusted with children. They always die and…”

“Effie.” he interrupted firmly. “That’s _bullshit_.”

“But it is _not_!” she sighed, tired of having to justify herself. “I am tired of talking about this and the children must be worried. I want to go home.”

He didn’t argue further but he kept watching her with the same worry that hadn’t left his eyes for the past week. Even when she switched to the escort persona for Katniss and Peeta’s sakes, he kept studying her, attentive to her smallest misstep. It was exhausting and she was almost glad to be able to use _the_ _situation_ excuse to go lie down far from them all.

She curled up on their bed and she went back to her waiting.

Waiting for a disaster to happen was exhausting.


	5. Eight Weeks

Haymitch watched from his position on the bed as Effie completed her nightly ritual of creams and hair brushing. She looked aloof again, distracted. It had been much of the same since she had been told she was expecting. He had lost count of the number of times he had caught her staring in the distance or at a wall.

Her routine usually ended with brushing her hair so he was a little thrown when she shed her dressing gown and her nightgown. She was wearing a bra underneath, which was odd since they were about to go to sleep. At first he thought she was making a pass at him but the bra was plain and not her usual kind of lingerie. She winced when she took it off and it was done without a single glance for him. To puzzle him some more, she grabbed some lotion and started rubbing it on her chest.

They hadn’t had sex since they had been told Effie was pregnant and the sight of her touching herself in an innocent – but still very much sexy – fashion was enough to make him half-hard.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his mouth parched.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, blinking fast as if she had completely forgotten he was even there. Way too boost a man’s ego.

“My breasts hurt.” she explained.

He stared at her chest for longer than was probably appropriate and licked his lips. “They’re bigger.”

“Which is why I am applying some lotion. I do not want any stretch marks.” she replied as if it was obvious.

He crawled to the foot on the bed on all fours, not even caring he must have looked ridiculous. “I can help with that.”

She hesitated for a second but she eventually handed him the lotion bottle and lied down on the bed with a small grin. “Be careful, though. They are painful.”

It turned out quickly they weren’t just painful but sensitive as well. He _was_ careful at first, almost wary, but she sighed in contentment when he gently rubbed the thick lotion on her skin and he let himself explore. It was almost uncanny how familiar and unfamiliar it was at the same time. Her breasts were hard when they were usually soft, the skin indeed felt stretched tight. They were a cup or two bigger, he thought, they barely fit in his hands anymore.

September was slowly dying into October and the temperature was steadily decreasing, it wasn’t cold in the room but it wasn’t warm either. He couldn’t tell if her nipples were hard because she was enjoying this or because she was cold. He experimentally brushed his thumb against an erected peak and she whimpered.

“Good or bad?” he asked.

“Good.” she breathed out, reaching out to him. She tugged on his shirt and he complied by taking it off and tossing it in the vague direction of his pillow. Her hand immediately ran on his chest but she didn’t try to sit up, probably not to jostle her aching breasts. He replaced his thumb with his mouth and, this time, the moan was loud and unequivocal.

He smirked against her skin.

The cream tasted like coconut and he took his sweet time working her up, going from one breast to the other, licking and stroking but not sucking or nipping like he usually would have, mindful of her state. After a while, she tugged on his hair a little, her voice almost a growl. “I want you.”

The words shot straight to his groin and he placed a lingering kiss in the valley between her breasts.

“How do we…” he asked and then cringed a little, slightly embarrassed. “Can I… Is it okay to…” He made a vague gesture and felt himself grow red in the face. He preferred to rest his forehead on her stomach, thinking he _shouldn’t_ have skipped that particular chapter in the books he had been reading after all. It had seemed stupid at the time because _they_ certainly _didn’t_ need advices in that department. “Did you talk about it with Larcher or…”

“You should write a book on how to kill a mood in two seconds flat.” she retorted rather harshly.

“Excuse me for not wanting to hurt you.” he snapped, looking up at her with annoyance.

“Is it me you do not wish to hurt or _the situation_?” she sneered and pushed him off her to sit up, pressing her arm against her chest – to support it, he figured. She immediately leaned in to grab the bra discarded on the dressing table’s stool and slipped it on.

“Both.” he admitted, not seeing why it was a problem. She was struggling with the clasp so he did it for her but that only warranted him another glare over her shoulder and he lifted his hands defensively. “Who’s killing the mood now, Princess? Do you _have_ to be a bitch because I asked a _fucking_ question?” The blatant hostility on her face slowly morphed into guilt and then sorrow. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny and Haymitch winced. He _hated_ those mood swings. “It’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s _okay_ , don’t…”

Too late.

The first tears rolled down her cheeks and she turned her head away from him, pressing her hands against her eyes. “I apologize. I…”

“It’s okay.” he repeated, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame, shifting so they were sitting with her back to his chest, and his legs on either side of hers. He dropped a kiss against her nape. “I miss you.” The admission wasn’t really dangerous anymore. They were more or less officially a couple – they _lived_ together, had been living together for around a year, they didn’t need to proclaim it publicly for everyone to know what it meant – he was allowed to miss being intimate with her, wasn’t he?

“I miss you too.” she sighed, turning her head to nuzzle his neck with her nose. “I am sorry, I overreacted. I am just… I am frustrated and my body feels strange.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t think we should… I didn’t ask Doctor Larcher so…”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do _something_ , right?” he asked, letting his hand trail down her side to the waistband of her panties. “I can still make you feel good…”

She bit down on her bottom lip and looked up at him. “I don’t know. I _want_ to but…”

“I could check the books.” he offered.

She chuckled. “ _Now_ you officially killed the mood.”

He rolled his eyes but relented, pressing a kiss against the side of her head. “Fine. Bed, then.”

They snuggled into bed and she switched the lamp off. The bedroom wasn’t dark though, they were both too wary of darkness to be comfortable in a pitch black room. They always left the curtains open so moonlight would trickle through.

He was on his back and she rested her head on his shoulder like she often did, her leg hooked over his. He ran his fingers through her hair a few times, staring at the ceiling and trying to think of anything else but his half-erection and the thigh that was a little too close to this part of him.

“Haymitch?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” he answered, letting his head roll so his cheek would be pressed against her hair.

“How big is it now?” she asked, almost uncertainly.

She asked questions sometimes. She wouldn’t read the books he had bought, she wouldn’t even _touch_ them. She still avoided talking about the whole thing and disliked it when he or the kid made a comment about her pregnancy. He had hoped she would eventually grow more comfortable with it but everything felt off balance. He was the one who read book upon book and had practically become a pregnancy expert, he was the one who kept telling her it would be okay.

They had exchanged roles and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Size of a raspberry, give or take.” he answered cautiously. “He’s going to become a fetus in a week or so.”

Her fingers clenched a little where they were spread on his stomach.

“I made the ultrasound appointment this morning.” she said. “It’s in two weeks. You will come with me, yes?”

“Sure.” he answered. “You saw Larcher today? It’s not his usual day, right?”

He frowned. He had been in town most of the day trying to help Peeta figuring out if it was better to use the ruins of the old bakery or to completely knock everything down to rebuilt. The boy was very invested in this project and Haymitch was happy to help but now he wondered what he had missed.

Larcher didn’t make a habit of doing house calls – he only went to the elderly people or those too sick to visit the hospital – but he had made an exception for Effie because being in the clinic even for an hour stressed her out too much, which was not good for the baby.

It was a long time before she answered his question and when she talked it was in a flat voice. “I lost blood again.”

His whole body grew rigid. “What?”

“It was just speckles. A drop or two at most.” she said quickly. “Doctor Larcher said it wasn’t really concerning but that I should rest. I lied down all afternoon.”

She sounded almost defensive.

It took several seconds for his heartbeat to decrease to a normal rhythm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.” she confessed. “I thought maybe… Maybe it was _over_. Maybe we were done waiting. But… But it is still _here_.”

She sounded almost puzzled by that fact and he sighed, fighting off his instinctive urge to get angry at being kept in the dark.

He rubbed his hand against his face, finally facing what he had been trying to ignore for three weeks.

“Effie…” he started, swallowing to make the lump in his throat disappear. “Do you want an abortion?”

She lifted her head to look at him, looking confused. “Did you change your mind? Don’t you want to try anymore?”

He licked his lips slowly, brushing her hair away from her face with shaking fingers. “I think we both know you agreed to try just for me, sweetheart. You’re unhappy. And it’s killing me.”

“No.” she protested at once, with a frown. “I… You were _right_. Abortion or miscarriage, it will be the same. I just…” She shook her head. “And _everyone_ knows now… How would we…”

“Never mind _everyone_.” he scowled. “What do _you_ want? What will make _you_ happy?”

She studied him for several seconds with a spooked expression, as if she wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. She could be very selfish but, paradoxically, she spent her time trying to please her loved ones.

“I do not want to lose the baby.” she finally whispered. It was the first time she ever referred to it like that and Haymitch relaxed slightly. “But I am scared I will. I am so, _so_ scared, Haymitch… And I keep _waiting_ for it to happen and…” She buried her face in his neck and he wrapped his arms around her, not liking one bit the way she was trembling. “I am so sorry. I am a mess, a complete mess…”

“No more than me or the kids…” he pointed out, pressing a kiss on her head. “Look, sweetheart… I get it’s easy for me to say but maybe you should stop waiting. Just… Live your life. One day at a time. Baby steps, yeah?” He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “No pun intended.”

She clung to him. “I am not sure I know how to do that. I am terrified, Haymitch.”

“I know, Princess…” he sighed. “But I don’t know how to help… If the pregnancy’s not the problem, if you don’t want an abortion, then… I don’t know _how_ to help.”

He felt useless. He hated that. It brought him back to days spent at Katniss’ bedside after the bombs had left her burned within an inch of her life, to weeks spent watching a high-jacked Peeta behind a glass wall, to the many hours spent soothing Effie’s panic attacks after her rescue… He _hated_ feeling useless.

“I am a mess.” she repeated. “I do not even know… I did not think this could happen… And now that it is here, I… I think I am afraid of wanting it. I think…” She let her sentence trail off. “I do not understand how you accepted the idea so readily. Is it because you are still thinking about giving it up for adoption? Is it because it is simply a transition period to you? Something that will go away in a few months?”

“There’s nothing simple about this.” he scoffed, drawing out a long sigh. “We still haven’t talked about adoption.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now.” she quickly replied. “I can barely wrap my mind around the fact that I am…” She took a deep breath and then soldiered through like the stubborn person she was. “Around the fact that I am pregnant.”

He rewarded her courage with another kiss on the top of her head.

“Whatever you need, I’ll get you.” he promised. “I just… I need to know _what_ you need, sweetheart.”

“I do not know.” she confessed. “Time.”

“Time.” he repeated. “Well… If you’re _sure_ you don’t want an abortion, we’ve got plenty of that.”

“I am sure.” she whispered. “I am not sure of what we will do with a child but I am sure I do not want to lose it like that.”

“Okay.” he granted. “Sleep now, sweetheart.”

He knew it wouldn’t be that easy – sleep never came readily to them – but she snuggled closer to his side and it was… _enough_.

More than enough.

They could this, he mused, he _knew_ they could. 

He just wished she would realize it too.

 


	6. Ten Weeks

The clinic’s waiting area was packed and Effie was trying not to feel like every pair of eyes was staring at her – a feat given that they _were_. She hadn’t been out and about in the District much in the last couple of weeks and people were talking. Rumors in Twelve went fast and far. People kept asking Haymitch and the children if she was sick when they went in town or if she had gone back to the Capitol or…

She supposed after that day, they would have something else to gossip about. She was wearing a loose dress – or at least a dress that had once been loose – but there was no mistaking the small roundness of her belly. The fabric was stretched around her middle. It wasn’t so noticeable when she was standing but when she was sitting…  It was a budge. Nothing _huge_. But on her figure… It was striking.

The plastic chairs were uncomfortable and Haymitch kept fidgeting, toying with the bottle of water they had carried along. She had been taking regular sips since that morning. All of Haymitch’s books claimed it was better to drink plenty before an ultrasound, that it would help give a clearer image. She _wanted_ a clear image. She wanted to know _for sure_ if something was wrong. She wanted…

A woman was insistently staring at her stomach and Effie was tempted to put her coat back on.

The whole District would know before the day was through.

She didn’t expect the news not to travel further.

It was her worst nightmare. The whole country would know. The whole country would _know_ and pity them when… _If_ , she forced herself to think, _not when but if…_ she would lose it.

“I will need to call my parents. They have a right to know before it hits the papers.” she whispered, more because she needed to hear herself saying it out loud than to start a conversation.

What they would do _after_ that was left to a limbo. Once the _whole country_ would know…

Haymitch frowned a bit because he was well aware that her relationship with her family had always been tense at best. The fact that they had cut her off for siding with the rebels and then having the indecency of _living in sin_ with a notorious alcoholic in the most backend District Panem had to offer hadn’t helped matters.

She had tried to mend bridges after the war and, for a while, when she had still been in the Capitol, she had been naïve enough to think it might even work. When she had finally admitted to herself she couldn’t be alone in that city anymore and she had turned to her parents for help… One’s reputation was still everything in the Capitol and having a rebel- _slash_ -former-escort for a daughter wasn’t good for her mother’s social life or for her father’s business – never mind that her sister still blamed her for her husband’s death. She hadn’t been really surprised to be turned away when she had showed up on their doorstep.

Her subsequent decision to go to Twelve had made things worse between them.

“It won’t hit the papers.” he countered.

She tossed him an incredulous look – because, _of course_ , it would: she was the last escort still alive and he was one of the few victors left, a hero of the rebellion. He refused to meet her eyes, staring at the plastic bottle, turning it this way and that…

She knew that attitude.

She knew it like the back of her hand. It was the _sweetheart, I didn’t mean to start a brawl in a bar and cause a scene_ attitude. “What did you do?”

He winced. “Might have called Plutarch. Cashed in a favor.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You told Plutarch.”

“Well, _yeah_.” he scoffed. “Nothing will hit the papers for now. We’ve got a month worth of peace at least.”

She pursed her lips, annoyed. “Will I ever get to tell someone myself, _on my own terms,_ or are you and the children going to announce it to all our friends? Perhaps an article in the newspapers would be preferable after all.”

He made a face. “Look…”

“Miss Trinket?” the nurse called.

Lips still pursed, she narrowed her eyes at him, before standing up.

“This conversation is not over.” she hissed in warning.

“When is it ever?” he sighed, rubbing his face and hauling himself out of the plastic chair. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

It would have been hard not to detect the touch of impatience and excitement in his voice. He had been on edge since the previous night, the nose in one of his books when he wasn’t staring at the bottom of a glass. He seemed to be torn between eagerness at the situation and a natural dread of the whole thing.

That was one of the points that made Effie even more wary of the whole affair.

The nurse left them alone in the room after inviting her to lie down on the table and wait for the doctor. There were posters on the wall: charts and framed landscape paintings. She focused on the landscape picturing a meadow overgrown with purple flowers to better ignore the white paint and the smell of antiseptics.

She _hated_ hospitals.

She _truly_ hated hospitals.

Haymitch’s hand squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him to find his knowing gaze. Some days, she didn’t know how he could bear to be with her and her emotional baggage.

He was certainly not the easiest man on the planet and his alcoholism _wasn’t_ a walk in the park either but, when it came down to it, he had mostly mastered his PTSD. He knew his triggers, he knew how to avoid them and, if worst came to worst, he knew how to work through them without making a spectacle of himself – yes, it almost always involved liquor, but he did that in the privacy of his own house where nobody could see him. And, lately, he had been better at keeping his alcohol consumption to the strict minimum.

She was still trying to deal with everything.

“They weren’t kind.” she heard herself say.

“I know.” he sighed and there was a touch of anger there.

The doctors and nurses who had taken care of her after her rescue hadn’t exactly considered her to be a priority. There had been injured soldiers, injured civilians… People had been hurt and dying by the dozens… The fact that she had been put in a VIP – albeit under guard – area had been seen as a provocation. She was an escort. And, in the rebels’ mind, escorts didn’t deserve much if anything at all. It had been the dawn of a new world, a world where she would have no place in.

They had treated her wounds to the best of their abilities, that was true. But they hadn’t been kind about it. They hadn’t gloated either, but she had seen it on more than one face: the flash of glee at seeing her suffering like District people had suffered. _You deserve the pain_ , the faces had seemed to say – she had never been able to tell apart the truth from her imagination; had they truly been _that_ hostile or had she projected her terror at the time?

She had been wary of touch and they had grabbed her without care, strapped her to the bed when she hadn’t been cooperative enough. She had been desperate to feel human again and they had treated her like an object to probe at, something sentient but weak that could not take decisions for itself. She had resented the nurses for washing her body like it was a chore, for the feeling of mortification and humiliation it had brought each time. She had hated every moment the doctor had spent explaining her condition to a third party when she had been _right there_. She had hated the professional detachment the staff had showed, as if she hadn’t been a person but a case to solve. She had hated the pity in the eyes of the rare nurses who hadn’t behaved like robots around her. She had hated _every single minute_ of it.

She had remained in the hospital close to a month. Perhaps even more.

She had remained there well after she had needed treatment because it had been the only safe place to keep her while Haymitch and Plutarch had been dealing with President Coin who had wanted her to be arrested and put on trial like everyone else involved in the Games had been. She had followed the Purge on TV until Haymitch had decided it was upsetting her too much and had had the TV removed.

She had resented the lack of control on her own life at the time.

She sometimes still resented it a little now.

“It’s a different place, sweetheart.” he reminded her before she could slip into intrusive bad memories. “It’s a different time. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

“I know.” she hummed, covering his hand with hers.

She supposed it could be considered odd how they transitioned from fighting to _this_. A lot of people were puzzled by it. She wasn’t. They fought and they bickered and they argued about everything but, deep down, she knew without a doubt he would always be there for her when she needed him – just like she would be there for him.

They weren’t a conventional couple, their relationship wasn’t the healthiest…

But they _worked_.

“Hello!” Doctor Larcher cheerfully said when he came into the room, nodding at the both of them. “Miss Trinket, Mr Abernathy.” She called back a polite greeting while Haymitch simply shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. The doctor gave him a knowing look. “Impatient, are we?”

“Just want to know they’re ok.” he muttered defensively.

She turned her head so fast something snapped in the side of her neck and there was an unpleasant throb for a few seconds. She hadn’t been expecting that plural.

_They._

Was she a _they_ now ?

The idea was both strange and… She wasn’t sure. She didn’t quite know how to feel about it. Just like she didn’t know how to feel about the situation.

_Pregnancy_ , she corrected herself.

She was trying. She truly _was_ trying.

She touched her stomach, something she rarely did, feeling the hard round bump under her clothes. She couldn’t let herself hope. It would destroy her when it… _If_ it…

She couldn’t let herself hope but hoping had always come _easily_ to her. She used to see it as a strength and now she saw it as a flaw. Because, as much as she told herself not to get attached, as much as her instinct told her nothing good would come out of this… A part of her was _hoping_ everything would go well. A part of her wanted to get excited.

“Miss Trinket?” Doctor Larcher called, having obviously repeated her name a few times.

She had missed a part on the conversation and she blinked, forcing a smile on her lips and hiding behind her best polite mask. “My apologies, I was distracted.”

“Understandable.” the doctor chuckled. “Everyone is always excited about the first ultrasound. I just meant to ask a few questions before we start.” He cleared his throat. “For the file, I need to ask officially, have you made your mind about getting an abortion? We are getting close to the deadline.”

“Yes.” she said and then winced a little. “I mean _no_. We are not getting an abortion.”

The doctor kept his face neutral when he wrote it down. He asked a few other questions that she answered to the best of her abilities, a bit amused by Haymitch’s embarrassment at the topic. The top of his ears was red and, by the time they were finished, his whole face had turned crimson. Openly asking Doctor Larcher about having intercourses was just pure _mean_ on her part but watching Haymitch getting so flustered he seemed to want nothing else but to run far away was entirely too funny.

He paid attention to _everything_ Larcher told them though. The doctor was professional and showed no sign of embarrassment or reluctance to broach the topic, actually seeming rather happy they had thought to ask before doing anything on that front.

Haymitch, once certain that he wouldn’t be mocked or that it wasn’t deemed ridiculous on his part to be concerned about that, had _plenty_ of questions and it was _her_ turn to be mortified because a lady _didn’t_ discuss her sexual life, even with her physician. Larcher answered them all without a flinch though, checking her blood pressure while he talked.

“Still a bit low.” Larcher commented. “Are you following the diet I gave you?”

“Yes.” Haymitch said before she could and she glared because she could still answer for herself. He made a face and lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “What? You _are_ , sweetheart. Plus the cupcakes.” His lips stretched into a smirk, his grey eyes twinkling in amusement. “Peeta keeps making us those chocolate cupcakes… Never managed to eat one yet, she swallows them faster than the kid bakes them.”

She pursed her lips and glared _harder_.

“You do not deserve chocolate cupcakes.” she huffed. “ _Horrid_ man.”

“Chocolate cupcakes are perfectly acceptable.” Larcher offered, fetching the ultrasound machine from the far wall. “I would certainly be happier if you gained a few pounds.”

The concept of gaining weight was still foreign after two years. She had spent her whole life trying to maintain a certain figure and now… Now she was _expected_ – when not downright forced – to eat more.

Getting ready for the actual ultrasound took a few minutes. She was forced to lift her dress and bundle it under chest, flashing the whole room with her – only pair of plain – black panties while the doctor carefully smeared her stomach with a sticky gel.

Haymitch looked like he badly needed a drink. His fingers were shaking and he kept balling his hands into fists. When he noticed her inquisitive look, he buried them in his pockets with a shake of his head.

He was nervous, she figured.

She held her breath when the sensor touched her skin.

“You need to relax, Miss Trinket.” Larcher told her automatically, without even glancing at her, his eyes on the screen.

She felt Haymitch take her hand but she didn’t look at him, she was staring at the screen, trying to _see_ … To _figure out_ … It was difficult to understand what she was watching and Larcher didn’t seem happy either. He kept moving the sensor around.

Effie braced herself for the news she knew would be coming.

There had been a misdiagnosis and there was no baby, something else was deeply wrong with her.

The baby was gone.

The baby was dead.

The baby…

“Here he is.” Larcher said suddenly, pointing at something on the screen with his free hand.

“He?” Haymitch asked immediately, squeezing her fingers, leaning in to peer at the screen.

“The baby. It is too early to tell the gender yet.” the doctor replied. “Can you see your baby, Miss Trinket? Perfectly healthy. A bit small for my taste but we are still within the normal ranges.”

He was pointing at a dark spot in a white oval that _vaguely_ looked like a rat in her opinion – and she immediately felt guilty for thinking so.

“Looks like a shrimp.” Haymitch commented. He chuckled then and he sounded so _happy_ … It had been a long time since she had heard him laugh like that and the instances had been rare.

“Don’t call my baby a shrimp.” she chided him, watching the screen with rapt attention. “Are you sure he is healthy?”

“Completely healthy.” Larcher insisted. “We will have to run some tests to make sure there are no anomalies… All routine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Alright.” she said softly, distracted by the picture on the screen.

_This was her baby_.

_Her_ baby.

_Their_ baby.

“I think…” Larcher hesitated, flicking a switch on the monitor. A whooshing sound suddenly echoed in the room and underneath that…

“Is that his heart?” she asked, her own heart pounding harder in answer to that tiny call.

“It’s a bit faint, no?” Haymitch worried, staring at the screen as if he was scared the baby would disappear.

“His heart might not be entirely formed yet.” Larcher declared. “It will get stronger. We will be able to hear more clearly in two weeks. But it _is_ your baby’s heartbeat.”

Effie burst out in tears.

She _hated_ how emotional she was since the whole thing had started. She _never_ used to cry in public and, nowadays, the tiny thing could make tears burn her eyes. But _this_ … _This_ …

“I will print you a picture.” Larcher said quickly, moving to an adjoining room to give them some privacy. The image on the screen was frozen now. A picture and not a live feed of what was going on inside her body.

“Hey…” Haymitch called softly, sitting on the edge of the table. “Sweetheart, it’s okay…”

“It’s a _baby_.” she hiccupped between two sobs. “A real baby.”

“Well, _yeah.”_ he snorted. “What did you think was in there?” He grabbed a couple of Kleenex from a nearby box and carefully wiped the gel off her stomach. “You heard what the doc said. Perfectly healthy.”

But wasn’t that just as much terrifying? What were they going to _do_?

What were they going to do with _a child_?

She was panicking and the sobs turned into panting. Haymitch framed her face, his thumbs catching the last of her tears.

“One day at a time, Effie.” he reminded her. “We’ll figure it out.”

She grabbed his wrists and tried to match his breathing, to calm herself down before she could have a real panic attack.

“Do you swear?” she asked – and it sounded broken and childish.

“I swear.” he said, sounding just as strong as she felt weak. She nodded, sniffing a little, forcing a smile, trying to regain her composure. He pressed a long kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be okay.” he insisted. “I’ll make sure we’re okay if it’s the last thing I do.”

There was a growl in his voice and she knew why. He had his own demons. Not having been able to save his family was one of them.

Larcher made sure to clear his throat before walking back in the room with a white envelope for them to take home. Haymitch helped her down the table and she smoothed her dress back in place, her hand lingering on the round bulge. 

“By the way…” the doctor said suddenly, as an afterthought. “I think we can safely assume your due date will be for the third week of April.”

April…

October had barely started. April seemed like a lifetime away.

“How long do we have to decide on adoption?” she asked.

Haymitch flinched but didn’t protest out loud. They hadn’t talked about it yet. It was an option though. An option _he_ had seemed to be alright with.

She wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

“You have until birth and beyond.” Larcher told her. “There is no rush and no need to make hasty decisions.”

“You must think us to be terrible people.” she remarked. She felt disgusted with herself. So many women wanted children and there she was… With one of her own she was terrified to lose while all the while knowing they would never be able to give him a stable childhood.

“I think you are very responsible parents, on the contrary.” the doctor countered softly. “You want the best for your child. I honestly can only respect that.”

They parted on those words.

People were still staring when they walked out the room but Effie only noticed them in passing, her head too full of information. She couldn’t stop thinking about the dark blot on the screen.

“I will be right back.” she told Haymitch before they left the building.

There was another woman washing her hands in the ladies and Effie nodded politely at her before hurrying to a booth. When she came out and made a beeline for the sink – because she absolutely _hated_ having to use public facilities – the woman was checking her red hair in the mirror. She took one look at Effie’s stomach and made a sympathetic face, rubbing her own protuberant belly. Effie hadn’t even noticed.

“Are you still in that phase when you feel you need to pee every five minutes?” the stranger asked.

Nobody in the Capitol would have ever asked something so intimate to someone they didn’t know and certainly not in _those_ words.

“It is getting better.” Effie hesitated.

“It’ll get worse again later.” the woman laughed. “Wait until you’re seven months in.” She patted her stomach. “This is my second. How far along are you now?”

“Ten weeks.” she said, placing a hand on her stomach. A small smile touched her lips. It was the first time she was able to tell someone about her pregnancy _herself_. “It is the first time. Well… Not _exactly_ the first time but it is the first time I…” She stopped herself but the woman didn’t seem to need an explanation so Effie averted her eyes, closed the tap and wiped her hands. “He is healthy. We are healthy.”

She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.

“That’s good.” the woman said gently and seemed to mean it. “Pregnancy can be a pain, you’ll see, but it’s all worth it when you have your baby in your arms.”

She didn’t know how to explain she wasn’t sure she would ever get to that point. Even if the _situation_ went on… On a whim, she turned to face the woman. “My name is Effie. Effie Trinket.”

She used to be good at this, _making_ _friends_. Months in a cell had reduced her gifts for social interactions.

She waited for the unavoidable recognition to flash in the woman’s eyes and then for the wariness to appear on her face. There _was_ recognition. The wariness was brief.

“Eileen Clarke.” the woman replied, leading the way out of the ladies. “My husband and I own the new coffee shop in town? We’re still in the building phase for now but we will be ready to open in a few weeks…”

“Oh, yes!” Effie exclaimed with enthusiasm. “That is actually _quite_ modern for Twelve. I was very happy to hear about it.”

“You should come around when it opens.” Eileen offered. “We could have a chat.”

“I would like that.” she said gratefully.

Eileen nodded to her with a smile and then nodded to Haymitch when he wandered closer.

“Made a friend?” he asked.

“I believe so.” she grinned. And it was a _good_ thing. It had been a long time since she had made a friend that wasn’t related to her victors. And right now… Right now she felt she needed something _outside_ of their family, particularly since they all tended to _suffocate_ her with unrequested advices and warnings to be careful _in her condition_.

How she hated those words.

The way home was a slow one and mostly silent. Haymitch was clutching the white envelope to his chest.

“About adoption…” he hesitated after a while.

“Not yet.” she cut him off. “We are not talking about that yet.”

She didn’t know when she would be ready to open that can of worms. She didn’t know _if_ she would ever be ready.

She still didn’t quite believe it would come down to that.

He looked like he wanted to argue but seemed to think better of it.  She had asked for time and he had agreed to give it to her. He had been _very good_ about giving it to her.

Unsurprisingly, the children showed up barely two minutes after they had sat down in their kitchen with a mug of tea for her and some spiked coffee for him. The ultrasound was passed around twice and Effie watched with some amusement as Haymitch proudly told them they had heard the baby’s heartbeat.

He was attached to him already, that was glaringly obvious to her.

And, later that night, when she was rubbing some cream on her stomach to prevent stretch marks before going to bed, she wasn’t surprised to feel his arms embracing her from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“The shrimp’s fine.” he whispered against her skin, his hands spread on her baby bump. They covered it almost completely. “You’re both fine.”

Her first reflex was to tell him not to hope too much but she swallowed it back. She didn’t tell him not to call the baby a shrimp either, Haymitch liked his nicknames. It was a cute one.

“We are.” she replied.

That _we_ was at the same time the most difficult word and the easiest one she had ever used.


	7. Thirteen Weeks

It was the sunlight streaming through the open curtains that woke Haymitch up. He groaned and rolled on his side, not quite surprised when he outstretched an arm to find the bed already empty. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed it was still early, barely half past six.

It was the humming that prompted him to keep his eyes open. Effie used to hum and singsong all the time before the war and it used to draw him mad… He had missed it.

She was standing in front of the full-length mirrors screwed to the wardrobe doors, in nothing but her underwear, watching her profile. There was a soft smile on her lips and Haymitch found himself smiling too, happy to see her so calm and relaxed. Her hands were rubbing her stomach – not as much a baby bump now as a _pregnant_ belly. She wasn’t big compared to other pregnant women he had seen but her round stomach was noticeable no matter what she wore.

And he kind of loved it.

He had never known he could be attracted to a pregnant woman before. _Hell_ , he had never thought he would even get a woman _pregnant_ before. But… He had never found pregnancy attractive. Until Effie and their shrimp. Not so much a shrimp now. The new ultrasound they had done the previous week had showed good progress on the baby’s part. Larcher insisted everything was going as planned, Effie hadn’t lost blood in weeks and she was, for the most part, healthy. Sure, they were all trying to stuff her with food all the time but, aside for an occasional low blood pressure, everything was fine.

They had heard their baby’s heartbeat again.

Haymitch might be a bit in love with the sound.

He didn’t quite know what was happening to him. It was a very strange feeling. Was he still terrified out of his mind? _Yeah_. And more than one of his drinking binges lately had been due to what would happen come April… But he was also strangely _excited_.

And Effie was slowly accepting the pregnancy.

He could see it.

She was less on guard, she smiled more… She used the words _baby, pregnant,_ and on several occasions, he had heard her refer to herself and to the shrimp as _we_. She was still apprehensive and what they would actually _do_ with the child was left to a limbo, but he had promised her they would take it one day at a time and, for the moment, it was working out for the best.

She also hadn’t had a nightmare or a flashback in two weeks. And he counted that a victory.

“Careful not to fall into that mirror, sweetheart.” he teased eventually.

She didn’t startle – which told him she had been aware he was awake – her eyes darted to him in the mirror, a bright smile stretching her lips.

“I am _so_ big…” she laughed, placing her hands on each side of her stomach. The tips of her long fingernails barely touched. “Look…”

He crawled closer on the bed, kneeling behind her to touch her belly – another thing he had never thought he would enjoy but he felt a _connection_ with the shrimp and he liked touching her stomach. He pressed a kiss to her back.

“You’re not _that_ big.” he commented. “You’ll get bigger.”

Her smile dimmed a little but she kept her eyes straight on her stomach in the mirror. “Doctor Larcher said the risk of miscarriage decreases a lot after the first trimester.”

“That’s what they say in the books too.” he confirmed, pressing another kiss to her skin. “We’ll feel him move soon. Well, _you_ will. I won’t be able to, at first.” He gently rubbed her round stomach. “I can’t wait.”

The confession was whispered and a bit uncertain. He had been careful not to look or sound overly excited about the whole thing. She freaked out when he drew too much focus to her condition.

“Eileen says it’s a weird sensation the first few weeks…” she explained. “Like a flutter.”

“Yeah?” he smirked. “Nice.”

And _thank the providence_ for Eileen Clarke.

She and her husband had moved from Two to open a coffee shop, they didn’t have the same prejudices about Effie as some people in town did – not that he could hold their grudge against them and, as long as they left her alone, he didn’t feel it was his place to say anything. He privately thought Eileen had gone a long way into helping Effie realize that her pregnancy could be a good thing, something she could enjoy. Having another pregnant woman around who could answer her practical questions and lessen her fears… Haymitch saw the difference.

Besides, Eileen was _her kind_ of friends. She was direct, she liked gossiping and shopping, and she was a hard worker. He was honestly impressed with what she and Liam, her husband, had done with the coffee shop – something he hadn’t really been keen to see implanting in Twelve but that now had him convinced. It wasn’t only _coffee_ , it was all kind of teas and hot chocolate and cold beverages… Liam had sampled some of Peeta’s pastries through Effie and the boy was now officially supplying their shop with cakes and cookies… Plus they had a boisterous five year old little girl, Livy, always running underfoot and Effie dotted on that child with everything she had.

Livy reminded her why she liked kids and, in Haymitch’s opinion, that was an excellent thing.

He traced soothing circles on her stomach with his thumb, absentmindedly pressing another kiss to her spine. She turned around, a familiar twinkle in her eyes and he smirked, not at all surprised when she tangled her fingers in his hair and forced his head back so she could kiss him. With him kneeling on the bed, she was taller, and he took full advantage of that position, letting his mouth trail on her throat, nipping at the soft skin under her jaw and quickly unclasping her bra.

She let it fall without protest, pushing him back on the bed.

The five weeks of abstinence between the moment they had been told she was pregnant and the first ultrasound had been the most time they had ever spent together _without_ having sex. They had been very dedicated to make up for lost time. Besides, she was in a _phase_ , it seemed. She wanted sex three times a day.

He wasn’t one to complain.

Their habits had had to change though. After the war, they had never really gone back to the wild, almost violent sex – he had been wary of triggering something and it seemed fitting somehow. It wasn’t just about blowing off steam or releasing tension anymore… But it didn’t mean they hadn’t been rough. Rough was their style.

Now, though… Rough was out of the question.

He had to be careful, which meant they had to take it slow. They worked with it. _Making love_ – something else he would never have thought he would do. They turned tender and slow into a sweet torture because it was simply how they rolled. Everything had to be a competition, everything had to be about seizing control, even now. The one who brought the other to the brink, who made them surrender first, won. She was very good at that game. Unfortunately for her, he was too.

Her body was different and he was enjoying relearning everything about her.

Her breasts were bigger and no longer fitted in his hands, they were hard too and he knew they hurt her on some days. Her hips were more curvy too, there was flesh where his palms used to meet bones, he could no longer feel her ribs when he kissed his way down. She complained about stretch-marks and spent hours smearing creams on herself but she looked _ripe_ and he loved it.

He didn’t last long this time around. He wasn’t a young man anymore and the numerous booty calls every day didn’t leave him with the stamina he would have liked.

He let her snuggle against his side afterward, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes, toying with the idea of going back to sleep.

“I told Peeta I would help him.” he mumbled, more to himself than to her. The boy was rebuilding the bakery from scratch and he was making good progresses, they had a structure now. He was currently building the inner walls so they could add the roof… Haymitch had been manipulating bricks and concrete a lot more than he had ever intended to in the last few weeks. Effie insisted it was good for him to have a physical activity and, although it did leave him with aching muscles, he couldn’t deny it had helped him take his mind off things.

“We need to get up.” she hummed in agreement. “I need to go in town. I want to buy some wool and we are low on groceries.”

“You’re not carrying anything.” he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. “There are always teenagers around. I will pay one to do the carrying.”

“Good.” he approved. “What do you want wool for?”

She rolled her eyes as if he was being an idiot. “Knitting.” He let out a mocking snort and she whacked his side. “I need a stress relief method and knitting is better than smoking.”

He had never seen her knit in his whole life. Sketching dresses, yes. Sewing, yes. But knitting?

However, if it was knitting or smoking he would order the wool from Eight himself.

“Fine. We’ll get you wool.” he surrendered. “You can make me an ugly sweater.”

“You are infuriating and I hate you.” she huffed. “It is late.”

“Yeah, the boy will be waiting.” he sighed.

But they didn’t get up.

They were too comfortable to move. They remained snuggled under the tangled sheets and blankets, hands absentmindedly stroking the skin they could reach, his palm always returning to her stomach and what hid within. Eventually, she nuzzled his neck with her nose. “Will you still want me if… _when_ I am as big as a whale?”

He rewarded her automatic correction with a kiss on the top of her head. Every time she made the effort to go past her fears, something uncoiled in his own belly.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing that could make me _not_ want you.” he scoffed.

She let out a dubious hum and, with a deep sigh, nudged his arm off her waist. He followed her lead with the same lack of enthusiasm. He would have preferred to linger in bed with her some more, even though the shared shower went a long way into lifting his spirits. He was dressed and ready a lot earlier than she was – no surprise there – and he headed downstairs to start breakfast.

He wasn’t hungry so he simply switched on the old coffee pot and put some bread leftovers in the toaster for her, before going out in the backyard to let the geese out and collect the eggs. He would give them to the kids later on, Effie still couldn’t bear the smell of them.

She was downstairs when he came back in the kitchen, humming again, spreading strawberry jam on her toasts, standing at the counter. She flashed him a bright smile and turned on herself to let him see the dress. “Do you like it?”

It was a shocking mix of bright pink and sky blue and he vaguely recognized the fabric as something she had been diligently sewing those past few nights. It was obviously a maternity dress. It was the first time he actually saw her wearing something _designed_ for a pregnancy rather than just some of her older clothes altered where it was needed.

It outlined her stomach and it made him smirk because it meant she wasn’t desperate to _hide it_ anymore.

“Ugly.” he taunted. She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, giving him her best _I’m displeased with your stupidity_ look. It made him chuckle. “You asked.”

“And, _clearly,_ I must have lost my mind to have done so.” she scowled. “You have _no_ eye for fashion.”

“None.” he proudly confirmed.

November was slowly creeping in and the air was chilly.

They argued all the way from the Village to the town about Effie keeping her coat open versus zipping it up. She suffered from hot flashes and she got too warm quickly but he was afraid she would catch a cold. They kept arguing while buying her wool – that, despite her promise to hire a kid to carry her purchases for her, she forced down in her purse to keep with her – and along the streets to the grocery store.

“Shouldn’t you go to the bakery?” she hissed. “And _leave me alone_. Truly! You are _exhausting_ and _infuriating_ and…”

She fell silent mid-rant and stopped dead in her tracks.

Immediately alarmed, Haymitch grabbed her elbow, afraid of a possible fall.

“What’s wrong?” he worried, placing his other hand at the small of her back, ready to support her, to _carry_ her… “Is it the baby? Are you in pain? Do you need to go to the clinic? Do you need to sit down? Do you need…”

He was working himself into a panic.

It was almost anticlimactic when she simply blinked and furrowed her eyebrows together. “I am fine. I just… I am fine.”

She looked wistful and it was only _then_ , when he was about to rip her a new one for scaring him like that over nothing, that he realized _why_ she had frozen. They were standing in front of a children store, a brand coming straight from the Capitol that had implanted itself in every District – the likes of which he hadn’t been happy to see invading their corner of Panem. The shop window was crammed with shiny toys and more traditional board games. Her blue eyes were riveted on a rather simple rag doll though. It was white, shaped like a cat, propped on a box so it would sit on its hind limbs, with an _I love my mommy_ embroidered on its belly.

His anger melted away.

He cleared his throat and she startled, automatically placing a hand on her stomach. She did that a lot lately. _Touching her stomach._

Then, she patted her hair and flashed him one of those fake smiles that usually fooled the rest of the world. “My apologies, I do not know what came over me. We should…”

“We could buy it.” he cut her off. His tone was gruff because he didn’t want to let her know how uncertain he felt.

“We do not know if we are keeping it.” she reminded him in a whisper. “We do not even know _if_ … There is _really_ no point in buying things like that _now_.”

He took a deep breath and stopped her with a hand on her arm when she tried to start walking again. He kept his grip light, his fingers were shaking with nerves or… He wasn’t sure.

There were words he wanted to say. Words he had been keeping to himself because she wanted time and he had sworn to give that to her. Words that were leaving him terrified to the core. Words he had never thought he would utter. Words he wasn’t sure he would get out right. 

“Effie, it could be good.” A pause, then a deep breath, and grey eyes that wouldn’t meet hers. “You, me and the shrimp. It could be _good_.”

Once they were out, there was no taking the words back.

It was a life he had wanted once. A long time ago. It had been nothing but a silly dream. A family in a free Panem. And now…

Now she wasn’t his girl and he wasn’t sixteen but somehow it made it all even more _precious_.

Because they had been through blood and fire to get where they were now and, even though he was still terrified by the mere prospect of having a child, even though he was one hundred percent certain he would somehow screw up and be the worst father in the world… He wanted to give it a shot. Because he was selfish. And he had grown addicted to peace and the possibilities it offered.

“I know it could be.” she breathed out. “ _Of course_ , it could be. There would be good moments because we would love this baby. That was _never_ the question. The question is… Can we take care of this baby the way he deserves to be taken care of?” She shook her head. “Tell me you are not desperate to reach for the flask in your pocket right now, Haymitch.”

It felt like a blow below the belt. Mainly because she was right and he had been drumming on his thigh with the fingers of his left hand, resisting the urge to swallow a mouthful or two.

“So we’re not keeping the kid ‘cause I’m a drunk.” he scowled, self-loathing dripping from his voice. “ _That’_ s what you’re saying. It’s on _me_.”

“You are not sober and that is no way to enter fatherhood. _That_ is a _fact,_ I am not casting blame.” she countered, shaking her head again. “And I am not sure I can take care of someone else right now.” He sneered and opened his mouth to reply but she held up her hand, interrupting him before he could even start. “Do you think I would enjoy it? Abandoning our child? _Assuming_ I even carry to term. _Assuming_ I deliver a baby I will have carried nine months, do you think it would be easy for me to give him up? I am trying to think about the baby _first_. I want him to have the best he can possibly have. Is that _us_? Are _we_ the best for this child?”

“We’re his parents.” he argued.

“Being parents is about more than biology.” she snapped. “Trust me on that, I have practical experience.” She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. “We should not be talking about that now.”

“Yeah, well… We’ve got to talk about it at some point.” he grumbled.

“At some point is not _now_.” she insisted, spurring him along the street, away from the toy store and that discussion.

And the day had started _so well_.

“Good morning!” she chirped when they stepped in the grocery store, as if everything was perfectly alright with the world. “Hello, Rice. Katniss, dear! What a coincidence! Did you have a good stroll in the woods?”

Katniss’ bag was overflowing with game so clearly the _stroll_ had been more about a morning hunt. Effie made a beeline for the girl, fussing over her in her usual fashion, scolding her about not wearing a jacket when it was so chilly.

“Miss Trinket!” Rice, the old owner, greeted her, obviously happy to see her. “You’ve been a stranger. It’s good to see you. Hi there, Haymitch.”

Haymitch answered that with a mumble, still annoyed.

“You’re kidding me.” the customer leaning against the counter scoffed, a scowl on his face. The man was vaguely familiar but Haymitch couldn’t put a name on his face. Clearly not a fan though. “You’re gonna kiss that bitch’s feet too?”

Katniss bristled, her hand immediately coming to rest on her bow. Effie looked away and ignored the whole thing like she always did when people insulted her. As sad as it was, she was used to it.

Haymitch forced himself to remain calm.

_They were who they were_.

They reminded each other of that often enough.

“Knock it off, Clay.” Rice warned. “Miss Trinket was officially pardoned.”

“Come on, sweetheart.” Haymitch said quietly. “We’ll come back later.”

“ _She killed my child!_ I’m supposed to pardon _that?”_ Clay suddenly shouted and it reduced them all to silence. The man was sneering, hands clenched into fists, and the step he took toward Effie was threatening enough that Katniss immediately pushed herself in front of her. Not that the guy seemed to notice, he was too busy glaring at the former escort. When he talked, sprays of spit flew everywhere. He looked _enraged_. “Leyla. Don’t remember her, yeah? You pulled out her name. You…”

“Sixty-ninth Hunger Games.” Effie cut him off flatly. There was no inflection to her voice at all. She was completely neutral. Stating a fact. “Her favorite color was blue and she liked to sew her own dresses. She was particularly taken with the clothes we gave her. I taught her how to sew sequins.”

She met the man’s eyes then and it was a mistake. His sneer deepened.

“You should be dead like the rest of your kind.” he spat.

“Clay.” Rice growled.

“What?” the man scowled. “Everybody knows the only reason she was pardoned was because our joke of a victor couldn’t get enough of her ass. She’s his _whore_. She got out ‘cause she’s his _whore._ ”

“Effie.” Haymitch insisted, gesturing for her to come to his side. He didn’t want to get too close to that guy. He barely remembered the girl he was talking about, not like Effie did. He had stopped paying attention to the tributes at some point because they _always_ died. He had thought if he didn’t get to know them, it wouldn’t hurt as much. He didn’t want to have to get violent, not over this. That guy was entitled to his pain. Just like he was entitled to his own.

“Can’t you see she’s in a delicate condition?” the shop owner reproached the other man.

It wasn’t the right thing to say. Clearly, Clay hadn’t been paying attention to what her open coat had been partially hiding.

It seemed to _madden_ the guy even more.

“It wasn’t enough to bring the bitch here?” Clay snarled at Haymitch, his eyes narrowing in fury. “You had to _breed_ her too? Rub it _in all our faces?_ _Our kids_ are _dead_. _You_ should be dead, the both of you. Couldn’t have the decency to get yourself blown up, yeah? But _her_ …”

He took another step toward Effie. Haymitch immediately moved because he could tell it would escalate but Katniss was quicker. She pushed away the hand Clay outstretched toward their former escort and the man seemed to get ready to backslap the girl.

_That_ was crossing the line.

Haymitch stepped in between them, dodging the blow and pinning the man to the closest shelf with a hand around his throat. Some canned goods fell to the floor.

“Not in my shop!” Rice shouted “Take that outside!”

Haymitch ignored him.

“I get it.” he told Clay in a low voice that didn’t carry very far. “You’re angry, you blame us. I _get_ it. That’s your right. Won’t take that away from you. But you stay _away_ from my family. You don’t try to hit my kid. You don’t threaten my girl.” The man was glaring and he tightened his grip on his throat a little. “I’ll kill you to protect them. I’ll _kill_ you. Don’t want to but I will. Don’t try me.”

He shoved the guy towards the door.

Clay seemed to hesitate a little, obviously eager for a fight, but Katniss had her hunting knife out and she was _still_ the Mockingjay. Nobody with common sense would go after the Mockingjay or anything she was ready to defend.

“You’ll pay for my daughter.” the man hissed as a parting gift.

They all breathed a little easier once the door swung shut behind him.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Trinket.” Rice offered.

“It is us who ought to apologize.” Effie immediately countered, stepping around Katniss to pick up the fallen canned goods.

“Don’t.” the girl frowned, preventing her from bending in two. “I’ll do it.”

The reminder of her pregnancy wasn’t welcomed. Effie pursed her lips tight and bristled.

“You’re okay?” Haymitch asked, reaching out for her elbow.

She avoided his touch.

“You should not have threatened him.” she rebuked.

“He was going to hit Katniss.” he retorted. “ _Nobody_ hurts my kids.”

Her eyes darted to the girl and her face softened. “Still.” she said petulantly before lowering her voice. “Katniss is big enough to defend herself.”

She placed her hand on her stomach and he followed her train of thoughts easily. The shrimp wasn’t. The shrimp might not be as safe as they would like to believe.

The Hunger Games were a thing of the past.

But nobody had forgotten yet.

He reached inside his coat without thinking and took a few sips of liquor. He had been dying to for a while now and the incident was the perfect excuse to indulge. The disapproval and sadness in her eyes were enough to make him feel both ashamed and mad. Or maybe he was just mad with shame.

Besides, the whole business was leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth. He hated facing parents of tributes. He hated reminders of his failures. He hated when his demons came out to play.

He caught Katniss’ grey eyes and noticed she had moved her bag to the side so the knife would be more readily reachable in case of troubles. He nodded at her. “Can you get her home?”

“Sure.” Katniss agreed easily.

“I do not need a minder!” Effie snapped, before flushing crimson. “I do apologize, Rice. We are making _quite_ a scene this morning. I would need a few things if you please.”

After exchanging a last meaningful glance with Katniss – who, he knew, would get Effie home no matter what she had to say about it _and_ carry the groceries while she was at it – Haymitch left the shop.

He took a few more sips on his way to the ruins of the former bakery. Peeta was inside, checking the blueprints he had sketched with Effie’s surprisingly helpful input. The boy looked up with a smile when he spotted Haymitch but it soon turned to a frown. “What’s wrong?”

He recounted the encounter between sips of moonshine, trying to hide his shaking hands as much as possible.

“You think that guy could be a problem?” Peeta asked when he was done.

“He’s not the only one who wants us dead in this country.” Haymitch shrugged, leaning against one of the newly erected wall. “Let’s make sure she doesn’t go out alone for now but… I think he’s just hurting. He hates her. Doesn’t mean he’ll try to harm her.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.” the boy agreed. “She must be upset. If you want to go home…”

“No.” he refused before the kid could even finish his sentence. He bent over the blueprints, pretending to study them and avoiding the boy’s eyes. “I’m fine here.”

Peeta sighed. “Did you two have a fight?”

He hesitated. He _needed_ to talk to someone about the whole of it, about his complex feelings. As a rule though, they didn’t burden the kids with their private struggles. It didn’t work that way. They kept their worries to themselves and make sure their victors came to them for help and advises when they needed it.

At time like this, he regretted not having a friend he could be completely honest with though. He missed Chaff more than ever.

“It’s fine.” he lied, waving his hand. “Nothing important.”

_Just our whole future_ , he couldn’t help but think.


	8. Fifteen Weeks

Effie didn’t quite know what she was knitting.

People kept asking her and she kept deflecting because _she didn’t know_. It was one of those questions she didn’t have the answers to. It was square, it was stripped with a soft blue and white, and it wasn’t very large. The rest, she wasn’t sure about.

She just knitted.

The clicking of her needles was a welcomed distraction she tried to focus on because it was better than letting the voices invade her head. _Children killer_ , the voices liked to murmur when she was least expecting it. _You deserved everything that happened to you_ , they whispered.

She had been having nightmares every night since that morning at the store. Flashbacks and panic attacks too, but those she had managed to hide from the others for now. It wasn’t just about her time in prison. It wasn’t just about the ghosts haunting her mind that the leather books Katniss insisted on working on in her kitchen only angered more. It was… _everything_.

She couldn’t take care of a baby.

She would do something wrong because she could never do anything right. She had tried to become the most famous girl in Panem, she had tried to be the most famous escort, she had tried to protect her tributes,  she had tried to…

She had never been a good daughter. How could she even pretend to try at being a _mother_?

“Are you even listening to me?”

She looked up from her knitting with a guilty expression. Eileen was apparently done pacing around the kitchen and was standing with her hands on her hips, her eight months pregnant belly pointing at her in an almost accusative way. Effie cleared her throat, embarrassed to realize she _hadn’t_ been listening. And how rude was that? Ignoring her guest in her own kitchen!

Eileen rolled her eyes and exchanged a look with Katniss. The girl was sitting next to her at the table, regularly sipping from the pumpkin latte her friend had brought from the coffee shop especially for her, working on her tributes book.

“You haven’t left your house in a week.” Eileen insisted.

“Patently untrue.” Effie denied. “I dined at the children’s yesterday.”

Katniss scoffed. “A trip across the street doesn’t count. You’ve been locked up in here since the thing with Clay.”

“People are talking.” Eileen insisted. “They’re saying you’re afraid – which puts you in the wrong.”

She _was_ in the wrong.

“There’s no use being afraid of that guy.” Katniss shrugged. “We won’t let him hurt you.”

“I am _not_ afraid.” Effie hissed. “Thank you both for your concern but I am perfectly fine.”

“You’re restless.” Eileen accused. “How many times did you clean your house already?”

Effie tossed Katniss an accusing look but the girl only shrugged once more before going back to working on her book, carefully copying notes from crumpled sheets of papers covered with hers and Haymitch’s handwriting.

She was entering her fourth month and Doctor Larcher had warned her she might feel particularly energetic but that she shouldn’t overdo it. She didn’t feel energetic, she felt _restless,_ as Eileen had pointed out. And the lack of sleep wasn’t helping.

The phone started ringing, preventing her from answering.

“My apologies.” she offered, propping herself on the table to get up, one of her hand flying to her stomach as if to support it even though it didn’t quite need it yet.

“I have to go.” her friend sighed, staring at her _pointedly_. “At least, start working on the nursery. Trust me, later you will be too tired to do much.”

_The nursery_.

Effie said goodbye before unhooking the phone, too aware of Katniss’ attentive eyes on her.

“Effie Trinket, speaking.” she hummed, turning her back to the girl if only so she didn’t have to face the knowing look in her grey eyes. Nobody had talked about a nursery yet. Nobody had even _hinted_ at starting to buy things even though, Effie being Effie, she would have otherwise started collecting items months earlier just to be certain they would be ready.

_“Effie!”_ Plutarch’s voice boomed in her ear, just as cheerful as usual. _“How delightful to hear you! May I offer my congratulations? I didn’t have an opportunity yet…”_

“Thank you.” she replied, her voice a bit terse. “I hope you and Fulvia are well?”

She bore the small talk for a while because it would have been rude not to but it wasn’t long before Plutarch cleared his throat. _“Is Haymitch around by any chance? I have a small matter to discuss with him.”_

“He is helping Peeta at the bakery.” she told him. “I can tell him to call back later or I can take a message. Whichever suits you best.”

Plutarch obviously hesitated and then sighed _. “Well… I might as well tell_ you _… After all, it concerns you too. I have stalled the press as long as I could but rumors are rampant and…”_

“And my pregnancy will be made public.” she finished for him when he faltered.

_“I can give you a few more days of peace.”_ he said, sounding apologetic. _“But I am afraid…”_

“Do not worry. We understand.” she said mechanically. “You were more than helpful already. We are very grateful for your intervention.”

_“I wish there was more I could do.”_ he claimed and he sounded genuine enough. _“Take care, Effie.”_

Once she had hung up, she took a deep breath and turned around to find Katniss still staring at her. She hurried to the counter and put the kettle to boil, desperate for some distraction.

“What are you going to do?” the girl asked, just as tactless as usual.

“Well…” she hesitated. “Call my family, I suppose. They deserve to hear it from me and not from the newspapers.”

“No.” Katniss dismissed. “I mean… You don’t want this baby.”

The words hurt like a punch in the guts. She whirled around to face the victor, her hand protectively resting on her stomach, her escort mask firmly in place. Dumb expression on her face and cheerfulness in her voice. “What are you talking about, dear?”

“I saw the adoption papers on the fireplace.” the girl shrugged. “And I’m not stupid, you know. You don’t want the kid.” The adoption pamphlets had been on the fireplace for so long they were starting to gather dust, truth be told. Katniss turned the paper cup marked with the Clarkes’ coffee shop logo between her hands. “I know it’s none of my business…”

“You are right.” she cut her off. “It _is_ none of your business.”

Katniss shot her an annoyed look, lips pursed in a tight line. She knew that face. It was the Mockingjay’s face. The girl would say her piece regardless of whether Effie wanted to hear it or not.

“Don’t hurt Haymitch.” Katniss warned and it was almost a growl. “If you don’t want to keep it, you tell him straight. Don’t let him hope for something you’re not going to give. He’s been hurt enough.”

“By you most of all.” she snapped. “ _I_ never deserted him when he needed me most.” She regretted the words as soon as they were past her lips. She winced. “I am sorry. Dear…”

“No, you’re right.” the girl scoffed. “I’ve hurt him. But I _know_ him. What you’re doing? It’s going to _destroy_ him. You take a decision and you stick to it, Effie.”

The ‘ _or else’_ was implied.

Effie had never had any doubt on where Katniss’ loyalties truly lied and she watched her gather her things and leave with some regrets. She didn’t want it to come to the point where the children would have to take sides. She didn’t want to hurt Haymitch. She didn’t want to hurt _anyone_.

But she had to think about that child too. Her child. _Their_ child.

She honestly wasn’t sure they could raise one in a safe, proper environment. She wasn’t sure…

She waited until the kettle whistled and her strawberry tea was dark before adding a piece of sugar and dragging a chair next to the phone. She spent several minutes sipping from her mug and rehearsing what she needed to say, _how_ she needed to say it…

Her cup of tea was long empty when she finally found the courage to dial a number she hadn’t called in more than two years. It was answered by an unknown professional voice – the new butler, no doubt – she introduced herself and requested to speak to either her mother or her father, stressing it was important.

She half-expected the man to come back and tell her he was awfully sorry but no one was at home to take her call.   

Instead, what she got was an abrupt “ _Yes, Euphemia?”_

“Mother…” she breathed out and, as tense and difficult as her relationship with her mother was… She hadn’t realized how much she had _missed_ her. Her eyes burned with tears she hastily blinked away but it was harder to prevent Elindra from hearing the emotion in her voice. “Hello, Mother. It is good to hear you…”

_“What is wrong?”_ Elindra immediately asked. _“Are you in trouble? I_ knew _you would get in trouble._ Why _, I was just telling your father last week. I_ told _him. Wait for it, I said, Euphemia will call because she is in over her head and she will_ beg _us to take her back home. Where are you? Are you back in the city? Are you still in that horrid District? Do you need us to send money for a train ticket? Truly, Euphemia, you went too far with this madness of yours. Disappearing to the other side of Panem. With_ that man _! Honestly! Do you know how embarrassing it was for us? No matter, no matter… The important thing is that you came back to reason. Where are you? Speak, darling, how am I supposed to get you home if you do not tell me where you are!”_

She almost laughed at that verbal downpour because it was typical of her mother to convince herself of something and then accept it as truth.

“I am not… I am not coming back, Mother.” she said.

“ _Oh_.” Elindra said, obviously wrinkling her nose.

“I am glad to hear you.” she hurried in adding. “Truly. I did not think you would wish to speak to me. Last time…”

_“Last time was unfortunate on all accounts.”_ her mother snapped. _“Tempers flared. You are so impetuous, Euphemia… However, you are still our daughter. You father misses you very much despite everything. And I do believe your sister would be amendable to mending bridges if you would make an effort.”_

_And you?_ Effie almost asked but she knew the answer to that already. By _your father_ and _you sister_ , Elindra meant _herself_.

Effie closed her eyes and licked her lips. It was more than she had hoped for when she had called.

“I would like to see you. All of you.” she whispered. “But I do not think coming to the Capitol right now would be the best idea.”

_“Why not?”_ Elindra scoffed. _“It is your drunkard, isn’t it? Is he keeping you captive? I will have you know Lyssandra is seeing a lawyer nowadays, very high profile, very influential. We could sue him.”_

“I would prefer it if you didn’t call Haymitch by that vile name.” she frowned. “And he is not keeping me captive at all. I have told you before. I am here because I love him and…”

_“Yes. So you claim.”_ her mother sighed. “ _Well. I do not see why he could not do without you for a couple of weeks. A few days, at least. And if you absolutely must, you could always bring him with you. We do not lack guestrooms.”_

The idea of Haymitch going with her to her parents’ was so ridiculous she badly wanted to laugh. It would take a lot for him to agree to visit the Capitol again – something she completely understood – and the prospect of some quality time with the Trinkets would certainly not be enough.

“The city would not be a good place for me right now. I am trying to avoid reporters, you see.” she hesitated. “Mother… Mother, I need to tell you…”

She paused and took a deep breath.

_“Now you are scaring me.”_ Elindra hissed. _“If you are about to say what I_ think _you are about to say…”_

“We are expecting a child.” She rushed the words out.

There was only silence on the other end of the line and then, eventually, her mother cleared her throat. “ _Through surrogacy?”_

There was a hint of hope in there, that maybe the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

“No.” Effie replied and then, because she _needed_ to talk to someone, even if it was her mother and her mother had _never_ been supportive, she spilled the rest out. “It was not planned. I did not think… After I was rescued… They told me I could _not_ have children, they told me my body was damaged by…”

She cut herself off abruptly. What had happened during her months in prison wasn’t a public matter. Nobody knew and her family hadn’t ever asked.

_“Damaged?”_ Elindra repeated, clearly confused and with some worry. _“Damaged by what?”_ Damaged by the torture. Damaged by the blows and the whips and the malnutrition… Damaged by the festered wounds… Damaged by… _“Effie.”_ Her mother’s voice rang clear in her ears, pulling her away from the intrusive memories that wanted to swallowed her whole. _“Damaged by what? They said you simply were arrested. We heard so many stories about what happened to people during the war… Your father wondered… But they_ said _you had_ simply _been_ arrested _.”_

Her lips wobbled and, this time, she didn’t try to stop the tears when they rolled down her cheeks. She rested her head against the wall, her hand on her round stomach. “It was not just… I was… They thought I had information. And then they thought hurting me would prompt Peeta to talk but he did not know anything either so…”

_“What are you saying?”_ her mother hissed, sounding horrified. _“They would never have… They would_ never _have hurt you. You are a_ Capitol citizen _._ Were _a Capitol citizen in any case. You…”_

“I was the Mockingjay’s escort.” she whispered tiredly. “And they did not care who or what I was, Mother. I was a mean to an end just like everybody else was.” She shook her head and tried not to sniff in the phone because she did not want to be lectured about how crying did not befit a lady. “Anyway, it was not… They told me I could not have children. I did not use protection. I thought…”

_“Yes, yes.”_ Elindra cut her off. “ _You did not plan this pregnancy, I understood. Is it_ his _?”_

“Of course!” she snapped. “Who do you take me for? I would never…”

_“Attitude, Euphemia.”_ her mother scolded her. _“You will excuse me but you do not sound as happy as a woman expecting a child from the man she loves ought to be. And you called_ me _. I suppose there was a reason for that.”_

“It is going to hit the papers.” she warned her. “I thought it was only fair to tell you first.”

_“Lovely.”_ Elindra huffed. _“Imagine that. Learning my daughter is expecting through_ Panem Times _. How far along are you? Are you keeping it? Oh, my goodness, Euphemia…”_ Shock and horror suddenly struck her mother’s voice. _“Please,_ do _tell me you are not having this child out of wedlock._ Please _.”_

Effie started sobbing in earnest. She didn’t know why. Perhaps it was exhaustion, perhaps it was hormones, perhaps it was the shock of that man confronting her in the shop finally hitting her, or perhaps it was the fact that she and her mother were having a real conversation for the first time in _decades_.

_“Do not cry!”_ Elindra chided her, not sounding as stern as usual. “ _Darling, do not cry. What is it? Is he refusing to marry you? Oh, I cannot say I am surprised! Those District ruffians…”_

“We did not even discuss that!” she protested, sounding defensive even to her own ears. Haymitch wasn’t one for marriage and she didn’t see how it was relevant right then. “Mother, the child…”

_“Is there a problem? Is he… Is he abnormal?”_ her mother asked in a rush.

“No…” she sobbed. “The doctor says he is perfectly healthy.”

_“Oh…”_ Elindra breathed out. _“This is already something, I suppose. Is it a boy? A girl?”_

“It is too soon to tell yet.” she answered between her tears.

Her mother didn’t sound impressed. _“Are you sure your doctors are competent? You should come up to the Capitol for a check-up. We are_ still _more advanced, you know. Or I guess you could go to Thirteen. As I understand it, they have good technology too.”_

“I do not want to go to a hospital.” she refused, forcing herself to calm down. “I am fine. We are fine. It is just… The child… I do not know if I can… We are not…” She stopped, not quite sure her mother – who hated Haymitch and the choices she had made with _a passion_ – was the best person to talk to about her doubts.

_“You did not answer. How far along?”_ Elindra insisted. _“If you do not want it, there is no shame in getting rid of it, no matter what the narrow-minded idiots in your District are no doubt telling you.”_

“No.” she snapped, her fingers protectively spread on her stomach. “I am entering the second trimester.”

_“I see.”_ her mother said flatly, almost _hurt_. _“And… How long have you known?”_

“I did not want anyone to know.” she whispered, a bit chastised. “I was afraid I would lose it. I thought it would… But now… Everyone is going to know, Mother, _everyone_. And what if we decide to put him up for adoption after all? It will be a scandal and…”

_“Adoption?”_ Elindra repeated, sounding bewildered. _“What is this nonsense?”_

“I cannot take care of a child…” The sobs she had managed to control were back full force, they wrecked her body and she rocked a little, trying to calm down. “I do not know _how_ … And… What if I hurt him? What if I _kill_ him? Children _always_ die. Children…” The crying almost turned to outright wailing and a part of her, the part that was _sane_ and horrified by her own behavior, could perfectly imagine Elindra’s shocked face. “And Haymitch… I think Haymitch _really_ wants the baby. And I don’t want to hurt him. I _don’t_! But what if the best thing to do is to give the baby up so he can have a normal life? A _good_ one? People hate _us_. They want us _dead_. What sort of legacy is that for a child? He will hate me eventually, this child… But if we give him up… Then, _Haymitch_ will hate me. And I cannot lose _him_ , Mother, I cannot…”

Her voice broke and she stopped trying to spill everything out, feeling completely stupid for pouring her heart out to _Elindra_ of all people.

_“Now, now…”_ Her mother clucked her tongue, obviously uneasy. _“You should not upset yourself so in your condition, first thing. It cannot be good for the child.”_ Elindra took a deep breath and then cleared her throat. _“I am taking the next train. You can expect me tomorrow at the latest.”_

Effie blinked, her mother’s words shocking enough that it completely stopped her tears. “My apologies? I thought you said…”

_“Do not trouble yourself if you cannot host me. They must have an inn, in this place.”_ Elindra decided. _“It will do very well. Just let me pack. I will have to go shopping… You will need clothes, naturally. Can you find maternity dresses in your District? Not fashionable ones, probably. I will see to that, do not fret. I will take care of_ everything _.”_

“Mother…” she tried to cut in.

_“Perhaps I shall see if I can rope an obstetrician or two into coming with me.”_ Elindra hummed. _“I would feel better if you had a proper look over…”_

_“_ Mother. You do _not_ need to come.” Effie said firmly. Elindra bristled at the other end of the line, clearly hurt, and Effie closed her eyes. “I _do_ appreciate the offer. _Truly_ , I do. But you would go mad in two days here.”

And _Haymitch_ would go mad in two _hours_.

_“I would like to see you.”_ her mother stated and it didn’t have the mad frantic tone that usually went with her spur-of-the-moment decisions. It sounded almost pleading. _“I wonder… Your father is going to Four for a business trip next week. I could go with him. You could join us there.”_

“In Four?” she hesitated.

_“It is a big District, a lot of famous people coming and going, it is anonymous enough that paparazzi wouldn’t be on your trail.”_ Elindra insisted. “ _Perhaps a change of scenery would do you good, don’t you think?_

It was actually tempting.

She could visit Annie, Johanna and little Finn… She could walk around without Peeta, Katniss or Haymitch shadowing her in fear of anything happening to her…

She could… _catch a breath._

“I am not sure…” she hesitated.

_“Take a couple of days.”_ Elindra advised. _“And then we can plan something. Perhaps… Well… I suppose, if you feel you absolutely must, you could bring your… victor.”_ Effie was sure she had only remembered not to say _drunkard_ at the last second. _“We have never been properly introduced, after all. And if he_ is _to be the father of our grandchild…”_

“I don’t know if we should keep this child, Mother…” she whispered. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…”

Elindra sighed and her voice softened. _“Darling… I do not quite know what you want me to tell you. Even if I were to advise you on what to do, you never did do as you were told.”_

She chuckled, wiping her wet cheeks with her hand. “Haymitch would say I am too stubborn for my own good.”

_“Well.”_ her mother huffed. _“As much as I hate to agree with_ him _…”_

It took five more minutes and the promise to call back in the next couple of days with her decision before Effie could hang up. She found herself alone, trapped in the silence of her own kitchen once more. She toyed with the idea of hunting Katniss down and apologize because she didn’t like the idea of being at odds with the girl – but her victor _had_ meddled a bit too much after all… And _she_ had already said she was sorry.

She chose to make herself some more tea instead and she relocated to the living-room where she switched on the TV, purely to have a background noise, and picked up her knitting once more. Half an hour into the talk-show dedicated to fashion, she realized she was done.

And it was only then, with the finished product spread on her lap, that she understood what she had been knitting.

It was a blanket.

_A baby blanket_.

And it was enough to make her panic.

She had no business knitting baby blankets when she didn’t even know if she was going to have a baby at the end of it all. Her fears were still rampant despite everything everyone was saying and her own budging hopes that everything would go well. She could lose it. There could be a problem. And if she didn’t…

She rubbed her eyes and switched the TV off, annoyed by the host’s enthusiasm for taffeta – taffeta was her least favorite fabric.

She fetched the adoption pamphlets almost reluctantly and she read through them with even less desire. _Open adoptions… Closed adoptions_ … Some agencies let you chose the future family of your child. Others were all about complete secrecy. There was a lot of information, a lot of things to consider and Effie ended up making two piles but wasn’t any more decided once she had read through the whole thing.

She was, however, _suffocating_.

Suddenly, it felt like the house was closing in on her. She couldn’t _breathe_. The newly knitted blanket was glaring at her from the end of the couch. Everything was a reminder: the books on pregnancy abandoned in different places around the living-room, the adoptions pamphlets…

She moved as if in a daze. She made phone calls, she made arrangements… She was upstairs folding dresses into her suitcase before she even realized what she was doing.

“Effie?”

She startled, pressing the cardigan she was holding against her chest like a shield. She hadn’t heard Haymitch come home and she hadn’t heard him climb the stairs.

“What are you doing?” he frowned.

“I…” Her voice faltered and she cleared her throat, going back to packing. “I am going to Four for a week or so.”

“’Cause of what Plutarch called to say or what happened with Katniss?” he asked, his frown deepening. “I saw the girl… She was worried she upset you. Wouldn’t explain much more than that…”

She forced a smile. “Katniss is blunt but she is not wrong. We need to take a decision about what we are going to do with the baby, Haymitch.”

“And we need to go to Four for that?” he scowled. “Let’s go downstairs and sit and…”

“ _I_ am going to Four.” she cut him off. “You are not coming with me. Not _now_ anyway. My parents will meet me there next week and…”

“You’re not going back to the Capitol.” he spat, stepping closer and grabbing her arm to stop her frantic packing. “Effie, you’re _not_.” His grey eyes darted to her stomach and she could almost hear the ‘ _not with my child’_ he didn’t voice. He licked his lips nervously, tightening his grip a little. “You can’t _fucking_ run away, sweetheart… Not from this. Not from _me_.” His free hand reached for her face with shaky fingers. “Don’t… You can’t…”

“I am not _leaving_ _you_ , you stupid man.” she scoffed, leaning into his palm. He let out a deep breath, his eyelids briefly fluttered shut and she stepped in his space, pressing her lips against his. He responded to it immediately, his tongue seeking entrance. The kiss was frantic and a bit desperate and she broke it up, resting her forehead against his. “ _Of course_ , I am not leaving you. I simply need… I need some time away from Twelve, Haymitch. To think.”

“From Twelve or from me?” he mumbled.

She hesitated, combing his hair back. “I think some space would do us both some good. We can think about what we want.”

“What if I already know what I want…” he winced.

“Humor me and consider all the possibilities.” she requested. “ _Without_ being selfish. This is not about you or me, it is about _our_ _child_ and what is best for him. Adoption was _your_ idea. Read the pamphlets, do your researches… Think about what it would mean to actually _have_ a baby.” She could feel how reluctant he was. After the war… He had become overprotective and now that she was _pregnant_ … It was part of why she needed some space but she couldn’t tell him that without hurting his feelings. Letting her go to another District… It would be torture for him. She understood that but… “I _need_ this, Haymitch. I _truly_ do.”

He sighed but pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You’re staying at Annie’s?”

“Yes.” she confirmed. “I called earlier. She says I am welcomed to stay as long as I want.”

“Not too long.” he grumbled.

“No…” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Not too long. I would miss you too much. But I could really use some time away and I really want to see my parents.”

“You’re sure about _that_?” He made a face. “Never went well before…”

She placed her hands on her stomach. “It might seem strange but I think I _need_ to.”

He studied her for a few minutes and then shrugged. “If you must.”

“I must.” she insisted, closing her suitcase and zipping it up. “My train leaves in the morning. You will walk me to the station, yes?”

“If you’re nice to me, maybe…” he smirked but the taunting died quickly. “We’re good, yeah? You and me, sweetheart… We’re good?”

“Yes.” she promised, lifting the suitcase off the bed. He relieved her from it with a chiding look before she could properly carry it. She flopped down on the newly freed space with an inviting grin. “I will miss you terribly and, thus, I will annoy you to death by calling twice a day. How does that sound?”

“Annoying to death.” he deadpanned but he dropped next to her on the bed, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. His face was serious though. “I don’t like the idea of not having you around. You _really_ have to go?”

This time, her smile was genuine and she moved – more or less gracefully in her state – to straddle him. “It won’t be for long, I promise. I am hoping that when I come back the situation will be clearer.”

“But you’re not…” He averted his eyes, letting his head roll to the side. “You’re _sure_ it’s not about you leaving me, yeah? None of this… ‘Cause… If you’re thinking about that… I’d rather know. ‘Cause…”

“Haymitch.” she said firmly. “I am not leaving you. _Ever_.” She cupped his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes, moved by the vulnerability she glimpsed in his gaze. “Do not be an idiot. You know I…” She stopped herself because those words would send him into a panic. “You _know_.”

He watched her for a while, his face completely blank. Then he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, letting his hand trail down her throat before it came to rest on the back of her thigh. “You can say it.” He didn’t sound sure of himself.

She lifted her eyebrows, almost shocked. “Are you certain?”

“No.” he snorted. “But that never stopped you before.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned in to brush her lips against his before bringing her mouth closer to his ear. “I love you.”

It was barely a whisper.

She waited for him to have a panic attack and run for the hills – because those words were just as much a trigger to him as blood was to her – but he surprised her by remaining perfectly still. She drew back enough to look at him.

There was fear in his eyes, yes, but it seemed to be tame enough. There was also lust. And something else. Something that only shone for her – the reason why she didn’t need to hear the words back to know he shared her feelings.

He licked his lips. “You can _fuck_ me now.”

She couldn’t help herself.

She laughed.

And, for a little while, she forgot about the dark clouds looming over her head.


	9. Sixteen Weeks

He struggled against the hands that were holding him down, eyes wide open but unseeing.

It took a while for him to realize the ghosts and demons he had been battling with were gone. He focused on Peeta’s face and stopped trying to push the boy away. Haymitch was panting hard. The boy’s lips were moving but it was like being underwater, he couldn’t really hear. He tried to match the kid’s breathing.

He felt weak. So, _so_ _fucking,_ weak. His limbs were made of jelly, his head was pounding with a massive headache and his throat was parched. He clumsily reached for the glass he always kept on the bedside table and came up empty.

He wasn’t in his bedroom. He was in the bathroom, in the bathtub to be exact. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up there.

The room was familiar though, despite Effie’s numerous bottles of shampoos and other stuff being scattered everywhere. Some of them had burst open and were pooling on the tiles. It was a mess. A real mess. The mirror over the sink was shattered. The sight was enough to wake up the pain in his hand and he looked down to find it already bandaged, white gauze wrapped tightly around his knuckles.

“Are you lucid?” Peeta asked.

“Thought we were going to tie me up?” he asked through his fuzzed mouth. That had been the plan. He distinctly remembered discussing it at length with the kids before the worst part had started.

“You got free.” Katniss informed him from the threshold, where she was watching with open worry. “The delirium got bad. You had a fever.”

_That_ , he remembered. _Vaguely_.

“How long?” he mumbled.

“A few days.” Peeta sighed. “I told Effie you have the flu and I convinced her she shouldn’t come back because it would be bad if she got sick right now.”

“Good boy.” He patted the kid’s arm, wincing when his injured hand started throbbing.

“Yeah, wait for it.” Katniss snorted.

“You were _extremely_ foolish, Haymitch.” another voice stated and Haymitch startled, immediately trying to scramble away from the _potential threat_. Peeta’s hand on his shoulder pinned him in place though – he was too weak to fight it and there wasn’t much space to go around in the bathtub to begin with anyway.

It took him some blinking and almost a whole minute for his tired brain to recognize the man standing a few feet away.  “Larcher?” His whole body immediately tensed. “ _Effie._ Is she…”

“Effie is fine.” Katniss cut in. “Still in Four. We just told you.”

He rubbed his face, confused. “Then why…”

“ _Because_ Peeta thought it clever to bring a stranger in.” she hissed, tossing a pissed-off look at her boyfriend.

“And he was right to do so.” Larcher snapped, edging closer to the bathtub and crouching next to the edge. “Now, Haymitch, it’s time for your medicine. Please try not to bite me again.”

“Medicine?” he repeated, absolutely confused.

“You weren’t doing well with the cold turkey approach.” Peeta shrugged, worry openly slipping on his features. “I thought… I thought you were going to have a heart attack, Haymitch. It was _bad._ I called for help.”

Larcher pulled his eyelids up and flashed a light in his eyes, making him grunt in pain – not that it stopped the doctor. He poked and probed and then handed him two white pills. Peeta hurried in filling the glass they kept on the sink to rinse their mouths with water and brought it over.

“What’s that for?” he frowned.

“ _That_ is to make the transition into sobriety _easier_. And _that_ is what I would have prescribed if you had come to me in the first place.” the doctor scolded him. “Going cold turkey without any medical help is an archaic and dangerous method.”

He studied the man, then the kid, and swallowed his instinctive mistrust as well as the pills. His head was killing him and if it could help with that, he didn’t even care it might be poisoned.

“That’s how they did it in Thirteen.” Katniss commented. “And it worked.”

“It was hell.” Haymitch muttered.

“I can imagine.” Larcher sighed, looking stern. “Alcoholism is an _illness_. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” Haymitch scoffed but the doctor refused to hear it. “You will take your medicine and we will schedule regular appointments and I am confident everything will be fine. This is a good thing, Haymitch. You are having a baby and you will do so _sober_. This is a very brave, very good thing you’re doing.”

His cheeks flushed red and he awkwardly shuffled in the bathtub, very sure he didn’t deserve that kind of praises. He tried to get out of the tub but with his injured hand and his dizziness, it was complicated. He was vaguely aware of the doctor saying he would come back later that night or of Katniss offering to walk him back to the door.

It was only when he and Peeta were left alone that he understood the girl was actually trying to be considerate.

The boy cleared his throat. “Let’s get you clean up.”

He realized his sweatpants and his tee-shirt were covered with suspicious stains in various places. He decided not to ask.

“Can do it myself.” he grumbled.

Except he _couldn’t_. It wasn’t the first time Peeta had been forced to help him in the bathroom over the years but it never got any less humiliating. At least, once they had managed to get him out of his soiled clothes, Haymitch was _graciously_ allowed to wash himself alone even if the boy refused to shut the door while he looked for clean pajamas in the bedroom.

He insisted on getting dressed by himself despite the fact that he was unsteady. Peeta hovered right next to him with outstretched hands to prevent a fall and Haymitch tried not to resent that too much.

“We’ll need to fix that mirror.” he muttered.

“I’ll take care of it.” the boy offered.

Haymitch managed the few steps to the bedroom and froze on the threshold when he saw the damages. “ _Shit_. She’s going to kill me.” The room was a mess. It looked worse than before Effie had come to live with him. Clearly, his hallucinating self had paid no mind to the fact his former escort would have his balls on a plate for that.

“We’ll fix that too.” Peeta promised, helping Haymitch to the bed. “You just get some rest. I think the worst of it is over now.”

The _worst of it_ wasn’t the actual withdrawals – yes, that felt as if he was agonizing and as if there would be no end to the pain but _that_ passed eventually – the worst of it was _the_ _thirst_.

The constant thirst that water didn’t quench and that made him an outright asshole to everyone who was trying to help in the days following him waking up in that bathtub.

There was no liquor left in the house and nobody in Twelve would sell him any. He had very persuasive friends.

A part of him was grateful, the biggest part was angry and resentful… He wanted to claw his own skin out. He wanted to scream and rage and hit something _very badly_. He fixed the mirror because it was something to do. He tidied up for the same reason. He went on walks in the woods with Katniss because he was restless and they argued for hours because he scared away her game by being too loud…

The news about the pregnancy came out in the middle of that and he was happy Effie wasn’t there to shoulder it. Journalists were forbidden to put a foot in the Village, which helped hiding the fact she wasn’t actually there. As for Haymitch… He avoided them as often as possible and tossed a hundred ‘ _no comment’_ in a second when they managed to corner him. At long last, the kids got fed up and called Plutarch who released an official statement on their behalf stating they were expecting, happy, and would like their privacy to be respected. The wolves calmed down a bit after that but he was sure it was only the eye of the storm. 

He refused to take Effie’s phone calls.

He pretended it was because he still wasn’t completely back in his own head but the truth was he didn’t know what to tell her. His decision to plunge into sobriety had been a hasty one, one he had taken while watching her train leave the station. True, he had been more or less cutting down for a while now, refusing to admit to himself _why_ he was doing it but also unable to just… _give up_ without a fight. Yes, the situation was delicate and, no, he didn’t think they would be the best parents. But he _didn’t_ want to give that child up without a fight.

He wanted to convince her they could do this.

And he didn’t want to do that on the phone, still recovering from days and nights spent screaming his head off. He would be mean. He would be nasty. He would lash out and hurt her.

And that wasn’t the way to go.

The kids were good at deflecting but she _obviously_ knew something was wrong. It had been over a week since she had left and she was growing insistent, not at all buying the flu excuse anymore. When Peeta barged in the living-room one evening after taking her daily call, Haymitch wasn’t completely surprised. He was lying on the couch, glaring at the adoption pamphlets that had been left in neat piles on the coffee table for his eventual perusal.

“Jo’s on the phone for you.” the boy said.

He frowned and shot out of the couch, catastrophic scenarios already flashing through his head. “It’s Effie? The baby?” He stormed in the kitchen without leaving the boy a chance to answer, grabbing the phone from where Peeta had placed it on the dresser. “What’s wrong?”

_“Fucking finally.”_ Jo drawled out, at the other end of the line. _“Good to know you’re still alive. Annie and I were starting to wonder if the two lovebirds had killed you and buried you in the backyard.”_

“What wrong with Effie?” he insisted, his heart pounding.

He was _trying_ not to panic, he was trying _hard_. His fingers were twitching for a bottle of liquor they wouldn’t find. There were pills for anxiety, though. Pills Larcher had prescribed but Haymitch had refused to touch. He had given them to Peeta with strict orders to only relinquish them if it was an emergency. He could see the boy lurking on the threshold now, his hand in his pocket, no doubt wondering if the emergency was coming.

_“Aside from you being a jerk?”_ Johanna snapped. _“She’s sobbing her fucking heart out on Annie’s lap, has been for days,_ that _’s what’s wrong with your stupid escort. She says it’s hormones, I call_ bullshit _._ What the fuck _are you playing at, Haymitch? She thinks you hate her.”_ Seven’s victor’s voice turned into a growl. _“Now’s a_ shitty _time to come back to your senses about her.”_

His breathing gradually calmed down as he realized what was going on. “But she’s fine, yeah?”

“ _No, she’s not fine! Did you_ fucking _listen to anything I just said?”_ Jo snapped. _“Trinket! I’ve got your asshole on the phone for you.”_ There were a few noises on the other side and then a final hiss from Johanna. “ _You fix this.”_

More noises and then a familiar breathing coupled with some sniffing. Haymitch winced.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he whispered softly, gesturing at the boy to get lost. He wasn’t going to do this with an audience.

Peeta nodded his understanding and retreated to the living-room, granting him some privacy – not something he took for a given those days since the kids were worse than jailors, sticking around his house at all times of day and night.

_“Hello, Haymitch.”_ Effie answered, making an honest effort to sound confident and detached.

There was a long awkward silence. He cleared his throat, not sure what to say. “How are you doing? You’ve seen your parents yet?”

Silence dragged and, when she talked, her tone was clipped, distress replaced by annoyance. _“No, they are arriving tomorrow, as a matter of fact. Something you would know if you had been answering my calls.”_

No beating around the bush then.

“I’ve been sick.” he said. “The kids said they told you.”

_“Oh, please.”_ she scoffed. “ _Who has the flu for more than a couple of days? It has been_ a whole week _. At least find a believable excuse next time. If you didn’t want to talk to me…”_

“I’ve _really_ been sick.” he cut her off, irritated. “Ask Larcher if you don’t believe me.”

There was a pause. She was thinking so loud he could almost _hear_ her. _“Are you lying to me?”_

He sighed. “Look, truth? I’ve been better for a couple of days but I’m not in the best mood and I didn’t want… I’m tired, yeah?”

_“For real? Or did you go on a bender and…”_ she insisted.

“Yeah, forgot. That’s how you see me, right? A drunk.” he sneered. It was exactly what he had wanted to avoid.

_“Do not be ridiculous. You know it is not true.”_ she snapped. _“But it has been days and you would not pick up the phone and I could tell the children were not telling me everything. What is going on? Tell me at once. Are you truly ill? Is it serious? Should I come back? I_ would _have come back sooner but Peeta kept saying it would be better for the baby if I wasn’t here and I was afraid it was all an excuse and you just did not want me around you so…”_

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” he interrupted, a bit pacified by the worry in her voice. “I’m better, promise. Nothing to worry about. Just a bad case of flu.”

_“Are you one hundred percent certain you are not mad at me?”_ she hesitated.

He _was_ mad at her. For having a point about the whole thing.

“I miss you.” he confessed in a mumble, after checking Peeta wasn’t lurking around. “The kids are behaving like mother hens.”

“ _You_ do _tend to be a drama queen when you are ill. To be fair.”_ she chuckled. He could hear her relax. _“I miss you too. Terribly so. Perhaps you could… Perhaps you could join me? We could book a hotel room… We could…”_

“I’m not sure it would be a great time, sweetheart…” He wrinkled his nose. “You’ve got your parents coming and…”

“ _Mother said she would not mind officially meeting you.”_ she hesitated. _“If you would be agreeable, that is. And we could… We could talk. If you have thought enough about the…_ situation _.”_

“We’re back to calling the shrimp a _situation_?” he snorted.

She breathed out. _“Haymitch…”_

“I can’t come right now.” he declared before she could insist. “Look, Effie… It’s nothing to do with you, yeah? Just don’t feel like making the trip to Four. Walking to the woods is enough to make me want to puke so a train… When are you coming back?”

_“I am unsure.”_ she replied and he could plainly hear her disappointment. _“Are you sure you are not angry with me? I know… Haymitch, I know what you would prefer for us to do but…”_

“It’s got nothing to do with that, Princess.” he sighed.

_“If you truly are so ill… Perhaps I ought to come back after all…”_ she suggested.

“Don’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You wanted to see your family.” God knew why because seeing her family had never made her happy before, on the contrary it tended to _upset_ her. But if he had learned anything in the last four months, it was that pregnant women had _whims_. “You call me tomorrow, yeah?”

_“I will call.”_ she snorted. _“But will you answer?”_

He rolled his eyes, his lips stretching in a smirk despite himself. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, sweetheart…”

She laughed but it was still a bit tensed. She hesitated a little and then sighed. _“I love you.”_

His heart missed a beat and then it raced twice as fast as if to catch up. It made him want to reach for a bottle but it also made him feel strangely warm inside. The words were still frightening but he thought he could probably get used to them. It had been more than two decades since he had last heard them before she had whispered them in his ear. He had forgotten how they could make someone feel.

“Well, I don’t _hate_ you…” he joked. This time her chuckles were more genuine. “Goodnight, Effie.”

_Goodnight, shrimp,_ he almost added but swallowed it back at the last moment.

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a long time before making his way back to the living-room. Peeta was sitting on the couch, studying one of the pamphlets. Haymitch dropped next to him, letting out a long deep breath.

“She’s right, you know.” he scowled. “The kid would probably be better off with someone else. We’ve both got our problems and I’ll _suck_ balls at this. I get her point. He _would_ be better off with someone else.”

The boy remained silent and Haymitch dropped his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling like he had done countless times during the years between his Games and the Third Quarter Quell.

“But?” Peeta prompted eventually.

“But I want it.” he said at once. “It’s our baby and I want it. I want to see him grow up. I want to… I want to be _here_ to see. I want a _fucking_ normal life, how _fucked_ _up_ is that? ‘Cause I don’t deserve it. I _know_ I don’t. And if you’d have asked me four months ago, I’d have said I’d never want kids. But…”

“It’s within reach.” Peeta nodded wisely. “I don’t think it’s wrong for you to want it. And I don’t think the problem is that Effie doesn’t want it. She _does_ … She’s just…”

“Scared, yeah.” he finished for the boy. “I know. She’s not the only one.”

He snorted. That was putting it mildly. Without liquor to help him and give him some liquid courage… Fear was almost paralyzing.

The pills Larcher had prescribed helped make sure the transition from addiction to sobriety was less painful than last time – _nothing_ could have been as terrible as the weeks spent agonizing alone in one of Thirteen’s cells anyway – but it didn’t make it _easy_. It was a struggle. An every day, every hour, every minute struggle.

“She wants the best for the baby.” he added. “She’s just lucid about that not being me.”

“That’s stupid, Haymitch.” Peeta countered, shaking his head. “She knows you’re a good father. You’re a good father to Katniss and me and we’re not even your kids.” Haymitch awkwardly shifted on the couch, embarrassed. Peeta never skirted around those kinds of topic when he and Katniss had all those ways of talking about that without actually _talking_ about it… Peeta wasn’t done though. “I think she’s lost and she’s afraid _she_ won’t do a good job.”  

“Stupid.” he scoffed immediately.

“Well… Maybe you should tell _her_ that instead of sitting here.” the boy shrugged. “Tell her what you want.”

Tell her what he wanted…

As if it was _that_ easy.

They had never _simply_ told each other what they wanted.

They had always screamed and fought and taken by force…

Talking didn’t come naturally to them.

 


	10. Seventeen Weeks

Four was strangely peaceful for a District with such a high tourism ratio.

Effie had been there for over a week and she loved it. It was big enough to be anonymous and, so far, she hadn’t been spotted by any crazy fan, hater or reporter. Her pregnancy had hit the news and had remained on the front pages for a few days. Then, the hype had abruptly died down after an official statement had been released – she supposed she had Plutarch to thank for that. People thought she was still in Twelve, shuttered in their house in the Village, and that was just as well.

It allowed her to walk along the ocean front walk in peace.

Nobody really paid any attention to her anyway. She supposed when they pictured _Effie Trinket_ , they still imagined her with flamboyant outfits and vibrant colored wigs… The woman in a simple purple dress, with a blue ribbon belt and a bow at the back that discreetly outlined her pregnant stomach under her apricot open coat, probably paled in comparison.

She had made a real effort to look a little more like the woman she used to be before the war that morning though. She had styled her hair in a crown braid. She was hoping it was fancy enough that her mother would forget to be disappointed by its plain natural color.

She was very nervous about seeing her parents again.

She had hoped the long walk along the beach from Annie’s house to the resort would help soothe her nerves but they were far too frayed.

Haymitch’s behavior hadn’t helped her either relax or reach a decision during the last week. She had spent her time worrying about him being sick, then not taking her calls, and she had finally convinced herself that he was about to kick her out of their house and to leave her on the streets – which was ridiculous on numerous levels but she had decided pregnant women were allowed to be ridiculous and irrational about some things. She had been _so_ confused by his refusals to talk to her… They had parted on good terms and suddenly…

Now she was mostly worried though.

She hadn’t believed he was ill, at first, but the children had sworn he was, _he_ said he was and Eileen had more or less confirmed she had crossed path with him once or twice and that he didn’t look good. She had been toying with the idea of taking a train back but, since the night Johanna had called him against her wishes, he was dutiful about getting in touch every day. He claimed he was doing better and their conversations were becoming less awkward and tensed, more… _normal_.

Granted they avoided talking about the elephant in the room – or, rather, the shrimp in the uterus – but…

The resort was huge and the beach, in that part of the District, was crowded with people from all over Panem. Despite it being late November, the air echoed with laughter, seagulls and the sound of children running around. She hesitantly made her way to the towering building that gleamed under the sun, feeling strangely out of her depths.

This used to be her world: luxury, four stars hotels, staff ready to bent in four to please her… Now… She felt disconnected from all that.

Habits died hard, though. It was natural to plaster a fake polite smile on her face, natural to nod and demand… She might not look like a billionaire anymore but there was still something regal to her bearings. She had been raised a certain way.

The restaurant’s _maître d’hôtel_ recognized her. His eyes widened a little and he suddenly was very eager to please, despite her less than expensive dress and the not eccentric enough hair and make-up. She tipped him generously and he assured her the resort had a discretion clause, that _no one_ would know she was there. It suited her needs perfectly.

She had made sure to arrive ten minutes early but, naturally, her mother was already there, sitting like a queen at the best table in the room – because only the best would do for Elindra Trinket. It was next to a bay window overlooking the ocean and the view was breathtaking. Water as far as the eye could see, melting into the blue sky in a horizon line so thin it was hard to discern.

“Effie!” Elindra exclaimed.

She sounded genuinely pleased to see her, so Effie relaxed a little when her mother stood up to kiss the air next to her cheeks. There had been more plastic surgeries, she noted in a passing thought, a facelift at least and some Botox injections around the eyes and the mouth. Her hair was a bright orange with yellow strikes – most people had adopted a more subdue District fashion but some still resisted and followed the pure Capitol trends – and styled in a puffy bun on top of her head. Not really inconspicuous. Effie _definitely_ felt underdressed.  

“Mother.” she smiled. “I hope I am not late…”

Her mother waved that away. “Perfectly on time. On the dot. As usual.” A praise. That _was_ unusual. Elindra latched on her hand, preventing her from sitting down just yet. “Let me look at you.” The woman’s blue eyes roamed on her, from her crown braid hairstyle to her apricot heels, stopping for a long moment on her round stomach. “Well. You do _not_ look good. You are _far_ too pale. Not too worry, nothing a good make-over won’t fix… They have _wonderful_ salons in this resort.”

“I have been a bit tired, I must admit.” Effie offered, her smile straining. She should have known praises would be followed by that sort of comments.

“I would expect so, yes.” Elindra giggled, letting go of her wrist to touch her stomach. Effie tensed and instinctively stepped back. Her mother took her hand away as if she had been burned.

“My apologies.” she breathed out, horrified by how rude her own behavior was. “I…”

“No matter, no matter.” her mother dismissed. “Sit down. Let’s have a nice brunch. They have the _best_ chef this side of the country.”

She did as she was told, sitting down and gracefully unfolding her napkin to place it on her lap before reaching for the menu. Her fingers were shaking with apprehension.

“Is Father not joining us?” she asked, after five minutes spent reading without understanding a single word.

“Business meeting.” Elindra hummed. “He is _eager_ to see you. We will stay a few days, there will be time. If you are agreeable, that is.”

Effie peeked over her menu to find that her mother was staring at her instead of perusing her own. It occurred to her, right then, that she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. There had been screams the last time they had seen each other, accusations on both parts… Effie loved her family, and she _knew_ that despite everything they loved her, but they were difficult. It had _always_ been difficult.

“I have no plans.” she offered. “I am staying with some friends.”

“Really? Who?” Elindra asked, leaning a bit closer, like she always did when possible gossip was involved.

“Annie Odair and Johanna Mason.” she said, a bit ill-at-ease. The victors weren’t recluse by any mean, they were well-loved in the District – even Jo who had been adopted despite her less than stellar temper – but they had left the public sphere at the same time Haymitch and the children had and she was uncomfortable discussing them with people who did not belong to their tiny family. 

“Oh, I see.” her mother nodded, cringing a little at the mention of Johanna’s name. Seven’s victor had never been her favorite – too brash and too rude. “I heard Annie had a son…”

“Finn, yes.” Effie provided, a bright smile stretching her lips. “He is a delight.”

She was fond of the boy. Two years old and already a charmer… Every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help but remember his father. It was bittersweet.

The conversation was threatening to stall to a halt and she was thankful for the waiter who seemed to appear out of thin air. Elindra ordered tea for the two of them – and Effie _shouldn’t_ have been impressed her mother remembered what her favorite was, because Elindra was the perfect hostess and probably knew how everyone in the Capitol took their tea, but she still was – and an indecent amount of food.

“No eggs.” Effie hurried in interrupting when her mother ordered two plates of that. “Please, the smell… I cannot bear it.”

“No eggs.” Elindra amended firmly, before proceeding to order almost everything else on the menu. It was stupid because Effie knew very well she would hardly touch a dish but she didn’t try to stop her. That was her mother’s way. “Are eggs the only thing you cannot stomach?” she asked once the waiter was gone.

“Morning sickness weren’t so terrible and I do not suffer from them anymore… But eggs…” She wrinkled her nose. “I am forcing Haymitch to get rid of them. It is tricky because if we do not eat them, he tends to forget to pick them up. Then, they hatch and we do _not_ need any more geese than we already have, let me tell you. I think the children have been eating omelets and scrambled eggs every morning for the past three months, poor dears.”

A flash of horror passed on her mother’s face and she doubted it had to do with the children’s fate regarding eggs. It was probably picturing her surrounded by poultry.

“I was not aware you were living in a farm.” Elindra commented. It was almost _painfully_ careful.

“We do not.” she chuckled. “The geese are Haymitch’s pets.”

“Really?” her mother winced. “How… _droll._ ”

“It is a peculiar choice.” she granted. “But he has his reasons.”

And she wasn’t about to explain that his dead brother had been fond of animals and that his dream had always been to have a small farm instead of going to work in the mines. Haymitch’s decision to take in a gaggle of geese had been a sign of healing on his part, a way of finally putting his family to rest.

And he _was_ fond of his birds. As annoying and noisy as they were.

Food came to their table, stalling the conversation once more. Effie immediately snatched a blueberry muffin, suddenly starving. Her mother shot her a disapproving look but poured their tea without comment.

“Did your…” Elindra stopped, swallowed whatever she had been about to say back down, and forced a sweet fake smile on her lips. “… _victor_ come with you? Are we to meet him?”

“He stayed home.” she answered and it was difficult to keep her polite, cheerful mask on. “He is unwell. Flu, as I understood.”

“I see.” her mother said, her piercing eyes watching her – _cataloguing_ , she was sure, all the tells Effie wasn’t able to control. “Is everything alright between the two of you? A pregnancy can be unsettling for a relationship.”

“We are fine.” she snapped, more harshly than she had intended it. She looked down at her cup of tea and took a deep breath. “Tell me, how is Lyssa? And her sons?”

Her eldest daughter was a subject Elindra could talk about for hours without pause. Effie made an effort but half of it flew high over her head. The food _was_ good though and she supposed Haymitch would have been pleased by the amount she ate – her mother was certainly _not_ but, to her credit, Elindra didn’t comment on her weight once.

Elindra insisted on them going to the resort’s beauty parlor once they were done with brunch and, since they had managed to go without any attempt at murdering each other so far, Effie accepted. There was nothing of the kind in Twelve and she enjoyed being pampered and fussed over. Her mother was all over her like she usually was all over Lyssa and Effie wasn’t used to that. She was still a bit wary but Elindra was doing her best to coax her into lowering her guard.

For instance, she knew her mother was dying to ask about what they had talked about during their last phone call: about the war and, most of all, the baby. And yet she didn’t jump at her throat like Effie had expected her to. Elindra was bidding her time, that much was clear to her, but she appreciated the respite nonetheless.

Accepting her invitation to dinner after a whole day of mindless activities was easy. And she _truly_ was pleased when her father finally showed up at the restaurant. Tadius, too, had had a few facelifts since the last time she had seen him but he mostly looked the same as ever with his dark dyed hair. As soon as he saw her, he flashed her one of his rare smiles. She was also treated to a hug – a short one but it meant the world to her, she melted in her father’s embrace and it was so good she almost started crying for no good reason.

It was a nice dinner.

As well-behaved people, they avoided sensitive subjects and talked about anything but serious topics. She was happy when she came back to Annie’s house and she was happy when she called Haymitch.

_“So it went well, then?”_ he asked, clearly surprised and, she thought, a little bit wary.

“Yes!” she chuckled. “I actually made plans to go shopping with Mother tomorrow.”

_“Don’t overdo it_.” he warned.

Minding that advice wasn’t difficult. The way Elindra fussed over her, she would have thought she was _Lyssa_.

Effie actually managed to relax during the next following days, even though she had a scare one morning because of a peculiar fluttering sensation in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. It eventually stopped only to start again later. She worked herself into a panic at the spa she was visiting with Elindra until her mother, after forcing her to tell her what was wrong, declared she was simply starting to feel the baby moving.

She didn’t know who was more excited about that.

_“I missed it.”_ Haymitch grumbled on the phone later that same night.

“You wouldn’t be able to feel it.” she reassured him. “It is too soon.”

“ _You’re sure it’s the baby moving and nothing serious, yeah?”_ he insisted. _“You should check with a doctor… Maybe…”_

“Annie and my mother are both adamant.” she cut him off. There _had_ been talks about visiting Four’s hospital but she had refused again and again. “I feel fine, I promise. I haven’t lost blood and I do not think anything is out of the ordinary. I even gained a few pounds…”

He let out a deep sigh, pacified but not convinced. _“Still… I missed it.”_

“I will come home soon.” she hummed.

_“You better.”_ he snorted. _“The house’s a_ fucking _mess.”_

She pursed her lips, having no trouble imagining it. “I suggest you clean it before I come back or you will get better acquainted with the couch. I am _not_   your maid, Haymitch.”

She and her mother had developed some sort of routine. They would meet up at the resort for brunch and then go explore the various shops along the ocean front walk.

Elindra was being very generous with gifts and Effie felt a bit bad when she realized she had filled Annie’s guestroom with tons of shopping bags – and she felt even worse when she realized she would be forced to buy another suitcase to bring everything back.

Still, she enjoyed walking around in her brand new maternity dress – a lovely black piece with red dots that she had accessorized with red heels, a red scarf and a cloak like red coat. New clothes and shopping sprees had always lifted her spirits and she had forgotten how fun it could be to do that with someone who actually knew _something_ about fashion.

There were tons of little shops on the front walk, not just clothes but buildings dedicated to fishing, water sports… Everything one could imagine. On retrospect, she didn’t know why she was so surprised to find herself faced with a baby store. She would have walked right past it if her mother hadn’t stopped to peer through the window at the strollers on display. They were on discount.

“Perhaps we should check it out.” Elindra suggested. “Strollers are _awfully_ expensive even in the city. We might get a good bargain.”

Effie’s enthusiasm at the bright sunny day faltered. “Mother…”

“I know, I know…” Elindra sighed distractedly, still studying the two strollers. “It would make little sense to buy one in Four when we can probably find a better model in the Capitol… Nevertheless…”

“We probably won’t need a stroller, Mother.” she snapped. “I told you we…”

She couldn’t _say_ it.

Now that she could _feel_ him in her belly…

It was only a fluttering, the tiniest of sensation, but she had grown used to it awfully fast. She was looking forward to it every time.

It was _her baby_ moving inside her and the idea that she might have to give it up was breaking her heart.

And yet, at the same time, the idea of being responsible for a child…

She turned her back to the store and walked in the direction of the beach and the low concrete wall that separated the sand from the pavement. She had to hop a little to sit there and she was sure that, if Haymitch or the children had seen her, she would have been in for a lecture about overtaxing herself.

“Euphemia, really!” her mother huffed, coming to a halt next to her and throwing an embarrassed glance around. “We could have found a public bench if you insist on sitting down in the street.”

“Perhaps you should go back to the resort, Mother.” she declared. “I think I will go back to Annie’s.”

Elindra studied her, her lips pursed in displeasure at her tone. “ _Or_ you could _finally_ tell me what all this nonsense about adoption is about. You were so upset on the phone…” Her lips pursed even more. “It disturbed me. We have our arguments but I never wished you ill, you _know_ that.”

“I do.” she whispered. Elindra loved her. Not well, perhaps, but she knew her mother loved her. And, truth be told, she had been trying to do better in the last few days.

“Tell me, then.” Elindra ordered. “On the phone, you said your… _victor_ …”

“You can call him Haymitch.” she cut her off with a vicious look.

“My apologies, darling, but given your condition I would rather call him your _husband_.” her mother sighed. “ _Not_ that it would give me great pleasure to do so but, at least, the whole situation would be proper. What is he to you? How should I refer to him in society? This is _truly_ an etiquette conundrum and…”

“My everything.” she interrupted again, staring at the line of stores on the other side of the wide walk. “If you wish to know what he is to me, what he _means_ to me, this is it. He is my _everything_. He is my best friend, my lover, and, if you insist on a coined term, then, yes, my husband in all but name.” She shook her head. “I know you do not like him but he is a good man, one of the best men I know, truly, and I love him.”

“I know you do.” Elindra sighed. “However…”

“I would not be here without him, Mother.” There was a warning growl in her voice she didn’t try to polish into something refined. “He saved me. Times and times again, he _saved_ me. And he takes care of me. Those last two years… I do not think I would have survived without his support. We take care of each other. We are a team. I know you won’t understand but…” She shook her head again. “He _saves_ me.”

She almost expected a lecture about how Effie wasn’t sixteen anymore and shouldn’t behave like a lovestruck teenager. Instead, Elindra studied her with rapt attention. “Are you referring to what happened during the rebellion?”

Effie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had no wish to discuss that part of her life. No wish. And yet…

“He fought to have me found and rescued, yes.” she whispered. “And then, the rebels would have had me tried and executed with the others. He… He bargained for my life but President Coin… She dangled me over his head to keep him under her thumb.” She hesitated to say the rest because her mother was the worst gossip – but she also hoped her mother could make the difference between what to keep to herself and what to disclose. “If Katniss had not killed her, I do not think she would have survived much longer either way. If you understand my meaning.”

Elindra’s eyes hardened but she couldn’t quite say if it was in disgust, anger or approval.

“I understand.” her mother said. “Well. _Naturally_ , he is not what we hoped for you. Nevertheless, he _was_ a key player of the rebellion and that does have its weight nowadays. This is a new Panem, after all. Having been a part of the revolution _is_ fashionable. And he _is_ a Quell victor. It is certainly unfortunate he does not have our social standing but he could still be groomed, perhaps.”

“Good luck with that.” she chuckled. “I have been trying for almost fifteen years now.”

“He has yet to meet _me_ , darling.” Elindra smiled a frightening smile but her eyes soon darted to her stomach. “You said he wants the child.”

“He _never_ wanted children.” she sighed. “But suddenly… Since we have been told I was pregnant he has been…” She rubbed the baby bump almost unconsciously. “I think he wants it _very_ badly. And that frightens me.”

“Why?” Elindra frowned. “Are you afraid he would be a bad father?”

“Of course not.” she huffed and then averted her eyes. “However, I do not think we are the best suited to be parents. There is his alcoholism…”

“Would he hurt the child?” Elindra interrupted her.

“ _No_.” Effie snapped defensively, glaring at her. “You think he is a _brute_. He is _not_. He _never_ hurt anyone when he was drunk. It is himself he wants to harm, not others.”

“I see.” her mother answered. “Then, it is simple. Ban alcohol from the house. He can drink elsewhere at his own leisure.”

“Nothing about this is simple.” she scoffed. “If it was only Haymitch… The main problem is _me_. I cannot… I _killed_ children.”

“Nonsense.” Elindra dismissed.

“Mother, I am sure you think being an escort was very glamorous…” she started only to be interrupted again.

“It _was_ certainly very glamorous.” her mother scolded her. “But you will remember I warned you _against_ accepting that position. I _told_ you you wouldn’t be happy working in the Games industry.”

“Because I was Twelve’s escort and you were ashamed of me.” she accused.

Elindra snorted and looked around, anywhere rather than at her. “Because you were always too softhearted and far too smart, Euphemia. It is easier to drown in the glitter than to look at the scratched veneer underneath.” Effie was speechless. Her parents had always been vocal supporters of Snow. _Always_. Elindra dismissed her surprise with a wave of her hand. “The world was what it was and we all do what we need to survive. You did not kill anyone, Effie. They would have died anyway.”

“But I was part of it…” she countered slowly.

“Weren’t we all?” Elindra asked in a hard voice. “I cared not for those children and I still do not care, I am only concerned with my own. You will find it horrible, no doubt, but I do not share your rebellious tendencies and your grand ideals. I am more pragmatic than that.”

She stared at her mother, not quite surprised by what she was claiming and yet feeling as if she was seeing her for the first time.

“It was never about ideals.” she denied slowly. “I am pragmatic too. It was all about _my_ family. Katniss and Peeta, I mean. And Haymitch too. The Quarter Quell… If at any point I made a conscious decision to go against President Snow, it was because of the Quell. He threatened my team. He would have had them killed and I couldn’t…”

Elindra pursed her lips, obviously not truly at ease with the subject they were discussing. She kept glancing around as if she was scared someone would overhear them. Or maybe she was worried because Effie was sitting on a wall instead of on a bench. It wasn’t a ladylike behavior and, just like her, Elindra liked her masks too.

“And how does this prove you would be a bad mother exactly?” her mother challenged. “From what you are telling me, you would have sacrificed everything for your victors. The Mockingjay and the boy… You consider them to be yours, you told me so before. You tried to protect them.”

“And I paid the price.” she shrugged, ignoring the reproaching look she got at that casualness. She placed both of her hands on her stomach, almost protectively, her voice breaking a little. “They tore me apart mother. Inside and out. I was a broken doll when I woke up in the hospital. You cannot imagine…” She stopped talking and took a deep breath, blinking away the tears she was certain her mother would scold her for. “I still have panic attacks and flashbacks. Nightmares. There are days I can barely convince myself to get out of bed and others when I do not manage to at all. This is no life for a child. My burden should not be his.”

Elindra watched her for a while, sighed, and covered one of the hands still resting on her stomach with hers. “But you will get better.”

“Will I?” Effie laughed through the tears burning her eyes. “It does not feel like it. We have so much baggage… Both Haymitch and I… This is not just something that will go away, it is something I have to learn how to live with. I am scarred for life, inside and out. Will I always manage to put my child first? Before my own fears and insecurities? I am not certain we should make the gamble.”

“There are other solutions that do not involve you giving him away.” her mother insisted, squeezing her hand. “Your father and I had a long discussion about this and… We would not mind… That is… We could take the baby in.” Effie opened her mouth but Elindra continued before she could cut in. “Naturally we would be delighted if you came too. You would have help in the Capitol if you would rather not be by yourself… And not just with your… With _Haymitch_. He would be welcomed to stay too if he so wished. As I said, he is famous enough and he knows important people. It wouldn’t be a source of embarrassment, not with a positive spin on it. And we would _love_ to have you home, Effie. Both your father and I. We would _love_ it.”

There was something almost desperate to her voice, a plea that unsettled Effie because her mother was a lot of things but never desperate.

“Mother…” she winced.

“Think about it. Take your time.” Elindra urged her. “Wouldn’t it be better if your child was with family, with his _grandparents_? This way you would _still_ be his mother. You could take him back at any time. Trust me, darling, it is not so easy to be estranged from one’s child.”

In the end, the only thing Effie could do was agree to think it over and talk to Haymitch about it. She had known how _that_ would go well before she even called him.

She barely listened as he told her about how someone from the Hob had tried to convince Katniss to adopt a puppy – although the _puppy_ had, according to him, already been the size of a small dog. Apparently it was an amusing tale but she couldn’t focus.

She interrupted him halfway through.

He reacted in the way she expected him to.

_“You want to do_ what?” he shouted.

“I did _not_ say I wanted to do it.” she snapped. “I said _perhaps_ we should _consider_ it.”

_“Forgot about how miserable they made you already?”_ he mocked. “ _Forgot about all the petty comments and the…”_

“Haymitch, you weren’t always an example of a well-behaved partner yourself.” she retorted. “Did _you_ forget about those times you called me a _bitch_ if not worse? People _change_.”

_“That’s bullshit.”_ he scoffed. _“Assholes like that…”_

“You are talking about my _parents_. Be _careful_.” she warned.

_“Should have known they wanted something.”_ he went on. _“Well, they can suck it. Nobody’s taking my kid to the Capitol, Princess. You want to go back? Go back. You don’t want us? Fine. Then you leave. But the shrimp stays with me. We’ll be just fine on our own.”_

“I _never_ said I was leaving.” she hissed. “Do _not_ put words in my mouth.”

_“Can’t you see that’s what they’re aiming at? They’ll lure you back with the kid.”_ he sneered. _“Don’t be fucking stupid. They don’t care about the baby, it’s_ you _they want. They’ll try to marry you off to one of their assholes and…”_

“I cannot talk to you when you are like this.” she shouted back, losing her patience. “If you cannot have a civil conversation…”

_“How the fuck am I supposed to have a civil conversation about_ this _with you when you’re not_ here _?”_ he snarled. _“You’re the one who left. You’re the one who can’t make up her mind._ I’ _m clear in my head, Effie.”_

“Well.” she huffed. “I am sorry to try to put the well-being of my child before my selfishness. Goodnight, Haymitch.”

“ _Don’t you dare…”_ he warned.

She hung up.

It was _rude_ but _satisfying._

Johanna leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of her chest, lips pursed. “He’s got a point, you know. You can’t trust Capitols.”

“I _am_ a Capitol.” she growled.

“Case in point.” Jo taunted.

It took all she had not to become _ruder_. 


	11. Seventeen Weeks (2)

Four’s beauty was lost on Haymitch as he walked along the streets in direction of the beach, trying to follow Annie’s directions and not to get lost.

With every new step he took, his anger faded a little bit more. Mostly, he was just bone-deep exhausted. The night train had left him nauseous and shaky. He had showed up at their friend’s house around seven a.m. and Johanna had only given him a once over before sitting him down in the kitchen and offering him some booze.

It had been the first real trial of the kind, since nobody in Twelve would have made that mistake at the moment, and refusing had been harder than he would have liked. It had almost been worth it to see Jo’s eyes widening in understanding though. He had still accepted the eggs and toasts Annie had piled on a plate and set it front of him.

He had hoped to catch Effie before she could leave the house but, according to the victors, she was already gone. Annie didn’t think she had slept at all that night and, apparently, she had decided to go on an early stroll on the beach. So he had left in search of her.

The beach was cluttered with people in some places and completely deserted in others. He walked along the ocean front walk for a bit, getting _away_ from the most touristic areas and hopefully closer to where Effie was. Eventually, he stumbled on the cove Annie had told him the former escort liked to go to.

It was a nice place. Not really an _Effie place_ but a nice place. It was secluded and thus private and he wasn’t surprised she was the only person there. He took his time watching her before making his presence known, feeling the last of his fury completely vanishing.

The wind was running havoc in her loose hair, making it whip left and right until she lost patience and tied it up in a messy bun. She was sitting cross-legged on the sand, probably because she couldn’t curled up with her legs hugged close to her chest like she used to, burrowing in her apricot coat for warmth. Her gaze was lost in the ocean but he wasn’t sure she was actually watching the water or the seagulls. She looked troubled. _Sad_.

It wasn’t a look he liked on her.

He hadn’t really thought before boarding a train to Four. He had come there with the vague idea of finishing the argument of the previous night, maybe scream a little more and accuse her of being unfair to him by taking choices away. Now that he was there he wasn’t in any mood to shout any longer.

He just wanted the whole thing to settle down. He wanted to go home _with her_. He wanted to go back to the _normal_ they had built after the war.

He was strangely nervous as he crossed the distance that separated them. She looked up at him, obviously startled, just as he flopped down next to her without any grace.

“Haymitch…” she breathed out.

He was expecting accusations, reproaches or a lecture about good manners… He got arms flung around his neck and a lap full of her. They were kissing before he could even answer her greeting.

He was thirsty for her lips, maybe even more than he was for liquor. She was heavy, heavier than she used to be in any case, and she crushed his left leg so badly it would be numb before long. It wasn’t comfortable but he didn’t complain.

“I missed you…” she mumbled between two kisses, her face crumpling. He thought she might cry and he kissed her again just to prevent it. He hated seeing her cry even more than he hated seeing her troubled.

“I’m here now.” he muttered firmly against her lips, brushing back the wayward strands that had escaped her bun. “Sweetheart, about last night…”

“I do not want to fight.” she warned, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I missed you too much. I do not want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight either.” he sighed. “But we need to talk about what we’re going to do. For _real_. No more of this let’s talk about it later _bullshit_. We decide now.”

“And how are we going to do that without fighting?” she mocked, slowly slipping off his lap and back on the sand. He took the opportunity to briefly place his hand on her stomach.

“It’s simple enough, Princess…” he shrugged. “It comes down to what you want to do.”

“What I want to do and what we _should_ do aren’t the same thing.” she retorted.

“We never did what we were supposed to do, Effie. You or me.” he replied seriously. “Didn’t turn out so bad for either of us.”

She ran a hand over her face, briefly covering her mouth, and then dropped it in her lap. She worried the hem of her coat between her fingers. “There are pros and cons, Haymitch.”

“Okay.” he said, vowing to keep his patience. Fair was fair. They would _talk_ about this. He hadn’t expected her to cave to his wishes and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to do this just to please him. It was too important. “Pros and cons. Shoot. Cons, first.”

“What if we get attached to this child and something terrible happens to him? What if we are left heartbroken?” she asked, sounding almost panicked. “I cannot survive another trial like that. I _cannot.”_

He covered her hands with his, reminded of the morning after they had discovered she was pregnant. They had been watching the geese in the yard then, not the waves crashing on the shore, yet it all seemed very familiar. Her warmth against his side, her hands in his…

“Anything can happen to anyone, sweetheart…” he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ocean. “Learned that the hard way.”

“But this is _our child_ and it would be _different_.” she insisted. “This would be like… If Katniss and Peeta hadn’t survived, I would have… Don’t you see? It would _have destroyed_ me.”

“No, it wouldn’t have.” he snorted with confidence. “’Cause that’s not who you are. You _endure_ , Effie. ‘Cause we would have needed you and you would have taken care of us. _That’s_ who you are.”

He could feel her staring at him but he didn’t meet her eyes. He didn’t need to. They both knew he was right. If anything had happened to the kids – _when_ stuff had happened to the kids – he had drown in a bottle and she had tried to keep everyone together, as broken and wounded as she had been. She had nagged and nagged until he left her bedside to go check on their victors, she had demanded daily reports, and, later on, during Katniss’ trial, she had helped him and Plutarch with the girl’s defense, not sleeping for days and yet still checking in on Peeta every day.

She was the kind of person who would only collapse once she was sure everyone she loved was safe and well.

He wasn’t.

“You’re strong.” he added awkwardly, not sure exactly why he was embarrassed. “Stop thinking you’re not.” He shook his head. “Can’t predict the future, Princess, but… I can promise we won’t let anything happen to that kid. I lost my family once. Won’t happen twice.” He glanced at her with a shrug. “And our kids… They’re _tough_. This one won’t be any different.”

She let out a deep breath, untangling her hands from his to place them on her stomach. “What if we cannot do this properly. Be _parents_. We know nothing about raising a child. We are used to dealing with teenagers not _babies_.”

“Don’t think anyone really knows what they’re doing when they have a kid, sweetheart.” he snorted. “We’ll have to wing it.”

She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching with amusement. “That’s your answer to _everything_.”

“Served me well so far.” he replied. “Cons. What else?”

She took a long moment before answering, stroking her stomach, the sadness back on her face.

“Us.” she whispered eventually. “Who we are. What we did. How unstable we still both are.”

And that was the main thing, he figured. He couldn’t deny that.

He let out a long deep breath, forcing himself to consider what she was saying despite what his instinct was screaming at him. It was a gut-feeling at that point. The shrimp was _his_.

“You _really_ think giving him up for adoption would be better?” he asked. “He would still be our son. Or our daughter…” The words were almost foreign and his tongue stumbled on them. “We’d still be the parents.”

“Not with a closed adoption.” she countered, her eyes filling with tears she hastily blinked away. “He would be taken care of. _Safe_. And they wouldn’t know we… They wouldn’t know whose child they are raising.”

“And we wouldn’t know who’s raising our kid.” he retorted. “And that’s a no for me. I’m not leaving my kid out there to fend for himself.”

“You make it sound as if I am suggesting abandoning him in the woods.” she scoffed. “May I remind you adoption was your idea?”

“It was _before_.” he argued.

“Before you had a change of heart about having children?” she mocked and then tugged on her hair tie, letting the blond curls whip around in the wind once more. “I agree though. The idea of strangers raising our child… The idea that I would never be able to see him or at least know how he is doing… The idea that I would not know what he looks like…” She shook her head. “I know you do not like it but that is why Mother’s offer seems appealing to me. We would still be in his life. We would still be his parents. But we wouldn’t be in any danger to harm him.”

“We’re not going to harm our kid, Effie.” he sneered.

“All harm isn’t physical.” she sighed.

“Yeah, you would know, right?” he growled. “’Cause I remember everything you told me. And your parents were assholes.”

“ _Don’t_.” she warned and then looked away. “I was ordinary, Haymitch, and my mother is all about perfection. Our child… Our child could _never_ be anything but perfect.”

“ _Our_ _child_ isn’t going to the Capitol to become a spoiled brat.” he declared. “That’s it for the cons? What are the pros?”

She ran a hand through her hair and then glanced at him, looking guilty. “I _want_ him. But it is selfish, Haymitch… And we shouldn’t be selfish. Any decision should be taken in our baby’s best interest.”

He studied her for a few seconds, taking in the pained expression on her face. It would kill her to give up that child, he could see it clearly, in his best interest or not. And, truth be told, he wasn’t sure _they_ could come back from something like that. They had walked through hell and fire together and they were still there to tell the tale. He honestly believed that, as a couple, there was very little that could break them. But _giving up their child?_

He cleared his throat. “Wanna hear my pro?”

“Of course.” she frowned, reaching out for his face, cupping his cheek. He leaned in the caress and pressed a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

He unbuttoned his coat and pulled something out of his inner pocket, where his flask used to rest. He placed it on her lap, not quite meeting her eyes because he was embarrassed. She picked up the white ragged doll shaped like a cat, her fingers brushing over the embroidered _I love my mommy_. He had bought it on a whim weeks earlier, on the day she had first spotted it in the shop’s window.

“We’re going to love this kid.” he mumbled awkwardly. “So _fucking_ much. So, yeah… We won’t be the greatest parents ever and we’re going to _fuck_ up plenty of times… Sure, he will have to live with the fact I killed people and you were an escort… But it’s our kid so I guess he will have plenty of brains and he can understand it was another world… And, _yeah_ , maybe we’re not the most stable people but… Annie did it and we’re not any worse off. And we’ll get plenty of help ‘cause the boy’s been eager to paint the guestroom into a nursery for weeks now and I can’t imagine we’re getting rid of him once the baby’s here. And the girl’s going to be hard to shake off too. And we’ll have _each other_. We don’t have to do any of this _alone_. And…” He shrugged, making a face. “Yeah. That’s my pro. This kid’s going to be loved. _I_ ’m going to make sure he knows that I… _We_ … ” He stopped, not quite able to word it. He finally looked at her, with pleading eyes, grumbling under his breath. “Look, he turned me into a cheesy old man already.”  

She burst out laughing, holding the cat rag doll close to her heart, a few tears slipping through and rolling down her cheeks. He wiped them off, slowly brushing his thumb against her mouth.

“I wouldn’t do any of this with anyone else either.” he added, as an afterthought. “You’re… Sweetheart, I…”

The words remained stuck in his throat and he made a face at his own stupidity. So much for letting his kid know how he felt when he couldn’t even tell the baby’s mother.

“I know.” she offered softly. “You do not need to say it, it is fine.”

“I want to.” he mumbled. “I just… I can’t… Last time…”

The last time he had said those words, they had been a death sentence to three people.

“I know.” she repeated, leaning in to steal a kiss. “I know you love me, Haymitch. I am secured in that knowledge. I do not need to hear it, you prove it to me often enough.”

He relaxed and answered her kiss properly, tongue poking at her bottom lip until she granted him entrance. It didn’t matter that they had been together for more than a decade, the world still faded around them when they kissed. Another time, he might have laid her down and claimed her right there. The cove was secluded enough and he suspected they needed the release to the pent-up tension. Another time. It was chilly and he didn’t want to risk her catching a cold. Not with… His hand found her pregnant stomach and he smiled against her lips.

“It could be so _fucking_ good, Effie…” he promised between two kisses. “We could be happy. All three of us.”

Her fingers brushed against his, holding his palm in place. She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. “Alright. We are doing this.”

“Yeah?” he asked, coiling his free hand around her nape. “’Cause you have to be _sure_ , sweetheart. Don’t say yes if you’re going to say no later on.”

“Yes.” she whispered. “ _Yes_.” She was half laughing and half crying and he kissed her again, not even minding when she snorted. “Truly, you had me when you pulled that doll out of your pocket.”

“Should have told me.” he scoffed. “Would have spared myself the speech.”

“It was a beautiful speech.” she countered, kissing him again.

They did a lot of kissing and when they finally made it back to Annie’s house, they immediately retired to the guestroom under the pretence of taking a nap. He pretended he didn’t see Johanna rolling her eyes so hard it must have hurt.

There were a lot of giggles on her part as they attempted to remain _quiet_ – not something they had ever been good at. He loved watching her gasp and come apart under his mouth, he loved watching her wriggle with pleasure as he tortured her body… He loved the way she eventually tangled her fingers in his hair to force him in a kiss… He loved hearing her breathless ‘ _Haymitch’_ when she finally came undone…

He muffled his own groan against her skin as he reached his release, almost immediately flopping down on his back, bone-deep exhausted. She snuggled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, drawing silly patterns on his chest, sometimes following the white scars marring his skin.

They were silent for a while and Haymitch felt his eyelids drooping, he didn’t try to fight it.

“How long?” she whispered.

“How long what?” he muttered, drifting off a little.

“How long have you been sober?” she clarified in a casual tone.

He didn’t know why he was surprised. She knew him better than anyone. Of course she would notice. She knew what to look for. The yellow tinge of his skin, the not so steady fingers, the weight loss, and the weary look on his face… _Of course_ , she would figure it out in a matter of minutes – and he had never planned on hiding it from her anyway – he was almost impressed she had waited so long to bring it up.

“Eleven days.” he answered just as casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

Her fingers ran on the swollen scar on his side where an axe had almost cut him in two.

“You could have told me the truth.” she commented.

“Wasn’t sure it would stick.” he shrugged, resting his hand at the small of her back.

“And now?” she hummed.

“Now we’re having a kid for sure.” he snorted. “My kid’s not having a drunkard for a father.”

“Good.” she declared, dropping a kiss over his heart. “Although I hate that word. You are so much more than your alcoholism.”

“And you’re so much more than what happened to you during the war.” he retorted. “You’re so much more than just _Twelve’s escort._ I wish you could see that.”

“I am starting to.” she confessed with a bright smile, propping her chin on his shoulder to look at him, her nails pleasantly scratching his chest. “I think I will like being a mother.” She turned around and reached for the rag doll she had tossed on the bedside table, her eyes retracing the words embroidered on its tummy. “Will he love me?”

“Sweetheart…” he drawled. “Did you ever meet anyone who didn’t end up loving you? _For real_.” Even Johanna had given up eventually. He didn’t pretend to understand the strange friendship they shared but he knew for certain Seven’s victor cared about Effie in her own way. “You’re _impossible_ but you’re hard to _hate_.”

She pursed her lips at him, not completely pleased with that poor excuse of a compliment, and switched subject. “We always say _he_ but it might be a girl.”

“You want a girl?” he asked, his hand finding its way to her stomach once again. It was odd how hard it war under his palm. A part of him couldn’t wait to finally be able to _feel_ the baby move.

“I do not mind either way.” she hummed. “We will know soon. I am due for another ultrasound. _Oh_ … do you want to know or do you want to keep the surprise? We _could_ keep the surprise, I suppose. It would be so nice to discover it on the day of the birth…”

“Sure.” he taunted. “And you’re not going to freak out about what color we should buy stuff in?”

She blinked, narrowed her eyes at him and then conceded the point with a huff. “It is better to know anyway. We do not really enjoy surprises, do we?”

“Nope.” he agreed. “We don’t.”

She cleared her throat and ran her finger along the length of her stomach. It was the first time he saw her talking to the shrimp. And it made him want to burst with… _something_ he couldn’t blame hormones for – unlike her. “Should we tell Daddy that, since he is here, he is going to accompany me to dinner with your grandparents tonight, do you think? Or should we keep the surprise?”

He groaned.

But she wouldn’t be deterred.


	12. Seventeen Weeks (3)

“I’m not wearing a tie.” he grumbled.

Effie picked up the brand new tie she had bought that afternoon – because, _obviously_ , his idea of packing a bag for a couple of days _didn’t_ include suits or proper attires. They had made a mess of Annie’s guestroom and she was eager to find five minutes to tidy everything.

“You _are_.” she argued, passing it around his neck without leaving him a choice in the matter. “They won’t let you in the restaurant if you don’t.”

He rolled his eyes, sighed, but let her knot the tie as she pleased in the end. “You say that like it’d be a bad thing.”

She pursed her lips. “Best behavior. You promised. Turn on the charm.”

He flashed her _a look_ that told her she was asking _a lot_ but eventually caved, faced with her serious expression. “Fine. _Charm_. You’ve got it. But they better not say any _shit_ about you, sweetheart.”

They took a cab to the resort because, when he was told just how much walking she had been doing in the last week, Haymitch lectured her for a whole half hour – and, once he was done with her, he lectured Johanna and Annie because they should have, apparently, looked her better. Useless to say, it had annoyed her to no end.

The closer to the restaurant the car got, the more anxious she grew. She kept running her hand on her stomach over the flowing fabric of her dress, trying not to second guess any of the decisions they had made that day.

Haymitch’s fingers grabbed hers at some point and she finally relaxed.

_Together_ , whatever they did they would do it _together_.

“Stop fretting.” he mumbled. “I’ve got plenty of practice at playing nice with Capitols. Won’t embarrass you or some _shit_.”

“Language.” she snapped. “We are having a baby, you _truly_ need to start watching your mouth.” She frowned. “I know you won’t because I might murder you if you do.”

His jaw was clenched when he helped her out of the car. She didn’t think he was nervous, she rather thought he hated the whole concept. It had been _years_ since he had been forced to do something like that, to purposefully try to charm people into liking him. And the setting wouldn’t help. He was uncomfortable in posh environments, he felt out of place no matter how many times he had been forced to attend official events.

Haymitch was proud of where he came from and he didn’t like the loathing way wealthy people often treated _parvenus_. 

It was rather comical the way the butler’s eyes grew wide when he recognized Haymitch. He was still famous and, suddenly, the restaurant’s staff was eager to please and make sure they had everything they needed. They hurried to add a fourth setting to their table, to her parents’ astonishment.

She saw the second it dawned on her mother what was going on because she wrinkled her nose. Her disapproval was gone in a flash though, hidden behind a carefully polished mask of polite interest.

The way she greeted Haymitch, one would have thought he was her long estranged son.

“Haymitch, dear! How _wonderful_ to see you again!” Elindra exclaimed in a shrill courteous voice, despite the fact they had never truly met. “Euphemia, darling, you look _lovely_. We were right to buy this dress. Doesn’t your daughter look lovely, Tadius?”

“Lovely.” her father agreed easily, kissing her cheek before outstretching a hand to Haymitch with more gravity. “Mr Abernathy.”

“Haymitch.” he corrected, shaking the offered hand with a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Mr Trinket.” Her father didn’t invite him to call him by his first name, she couldn’t help but notice. Haymitch wasn’t done though. He turned to Elindra and, in his best innocent voice, said “If I didn’t know better I would have thought you were Effie’s sister…”

“Oh, you _flatterer_ …” Elindra faked a giggle, not fooled for one second.

“Do _not_ be afraid to lay it down too thick.” Effie whispered in his ear, openly mocking.

He pulled her chair back for her – something he had _never_ done before – with a wink.

Her mother gave him a sharp look and turned to talk privately to her in a stage whisper that carried to the next table. “I do not see why you say he has no manners. Clearly you managed to tame him a little.”

Haymitch bristled but pretended he hadn’t heard.

Effie placed her hand on his thigh and rubbed the tension away.

It was awkward at first. It felt as if they were all walking on eggshells. The fact that everyone in the restaurant was staring at them didn’t help at all. She was certain the woman near the bay window was covertly taking pictures from behind her menu.

He hated small talk and the topics her mother deemed suitable, once they had ordered and were waiting for their food, bored him to tears, that much was obvious. He perked up a little when her father asked his opinion on several new policies that had recently been implemented. Before she understood how it had happened, she was stuck chatting with her mother while Haymitch and her father were locked into a heavy debate about whatever book they were talking about.

It seemed they had found some common ground.

“Well.” Elindra hummed, this time low enough that it could stay between the two of them. “I must say he is _not_ as bad as I feared. More grooming would certainly not be amiss but we could do something out of him yet. He certainly does not lack brains. That _is_ always something.”

“He does not need _grooming_ , Mother.” she retorted. “I love him the way he is.”

If it hadn’t been unladylike to do so, she was certain Elindra would have rolled her eyes.

“Did you have a chance to talk to him about…” her mother asked.

“Actually.” she cut her off. “We decided we would keep the child.”

She hadn’t expected her mother to openly argue but she had thought she would make her disappointment clear. Instead, Elindra yet again surprised her by patting her hand with a terse smile. “That, I think, is the right decision.”

“What is, dear?” Tadius asked. 

There was a bit of an awkward silence during which Effie reached for Haymitch’s hand. He didn’t say anything, he just watched her, obviously intending to follow her lead.

She cleared her throat, licked her lips and then flashed her parents a sheepish smile. “We are having a baby.” Nobody truly reacted aside for Haymitch who smirked and looked down at his empty plate. She knew he was fighting to keep one of his snarky comments to himself. “Oh, _shush_.” she chided him, nudging his shoulder. “I realize it is stating the obvious but what I mean to say is… _Well_ …”

“We’re gonna have a baby.” Haymitch finished for her. His smirk turned into a genuine smile and she smiled right back.

“ _Fabulous_!” Elindra declared, clapping her hands once in enthusiasm. “That calls for champagne!”

“Not for me, thanks.” Haymitch made a face.

Her mother positively _beamed_. “Even _more_ fabulous! Well, champagne for us and sparkling water for the two of you!”

It was as considerate as Elindra would ever be and Effie chuckled at her mother’s antics. It took a moment for the ballet of waiters to subside and it was the first time Effie truly relaxed since dinner had began.

So _naturally_ her father had to ruin it with an expected but loaded question.

“When is the wedding taking place?”

Haymitch choked on his sparkling water and Effie was left to pat his back while he coughed, causing such a scene that several heads turned in their direction. Her mother winced.

“Sorry, what?” he croaked.

Tadius barely blinked and certainly didn’t lose his composure, his voice was very _matter of fact_ and it annoyed Effie to no end. “You got my daughter pregnant. I _do_ certainly hope you intend to do the right thing by her and the child.”

Haymitch opened and closed his mouth like a fish caught out of water, tossing panicked glances around.

“We have not discussed it yet.” Effie smoothly cut in.

“Yeah.” Haymitch hurried in agreeing, clearing his throat. “There’s time yet.”

“Not much.” Elindra argued. “You do _not_ want to marry when you are visibly pregnant, Euphemia. The child will see the pictures and what will he think then, I wonder? Why, just think… If it is a girl… what sort of example will it set? And you cannot deliver _out_ of wedlock, naturally.”

“Mother…” she cringed.

“Now, of course, a wedding is _a lot_ of work… Never mind a _shotgun_ wedding… And we would want nothing but _the best_ for you, darling.” her mother hummed. “Now I know _just_ the right party planner. He works miracles. I am certain…”

“Haven’t asked Effie yet.” Haymitch interrupted firmly, in his best _this conversation is over_ tone.

Elindra huffed, lips pursed. “Now, dear, you do _not_ interrupt a lady.”

Haymitch opened his mouth and Effie quickly but swiftly squeezed his thigh, digging her fingernails _hard_ in his flesh.

“ _Yet_?” she repeated, more enthusiastic than she would have thought she would be. It had been a long time since she had genuinely felt happy or excited about something.

He licked his lips, his face turning red, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re having _a kid._ ”

“Oh.” Her enthusiasm deflated. “So you want to marry me because I am pregnant.”

“Well, _yeah_.” he shrugged. “Mama raised me right.”

That was added almost in defiance, with a glare for her parents.

Effie looked at no one when she reached for her glass of water and took a sip. “In this case, no, thank you.”

She could practically feel her mother’s desperate urge to hit her head against the edge of the table. Elindra gritted her teeth. “Euphemia.”

Her father’s eyebrows were lifted high, he was darting calculating eyes from her to Haymitch but he remained silent.

Haymitch, on the other hand, was frowning. “What do you mean _no_?”

“I mean I will not marry you simply because I am pregnant and you feel it is the right thing to do.” she snapped. “If you do not _want_ to marry _me_ …” 

“Now, you’re being stupid.” he scoffed.

“Of course, I am.” she deadpanned. “I forgot, I cannot think for myself, can I?”

“Is that a hormone thing?” he scowled. “’Cause you’re being…”

Months ago, her storming out would have been swift and gracious.

Right then, it wasn’t really.

She barely noticed her mother stopping Haymitch from following her with a bright smile and a loud fake laugh to avoid causing more of a scene. She was grateful for the intervention because when she reached the restaurant’s balcony, which was thankfully deserted, there were tears prickling her eyes. She stared at the ocean, gently rubbing her baby bump, and she berated herself for having let her guard down for even a second.

She had been happy.

For a moment, everything had felt safe, _comfortable_. Haymitch and her parents _weren’t_ trying to kill each other, she still felt the rush of the decision they had made to keep the baby, she was elated by Haymitch’s effort to stop drinking… For a moment, everything had felt _perfect_ , as it _should_ have been, and now…

The sliding doors opened and closed behind her.

“Now, dear, you should not be out there without a coat in your condition.” Tadius chided her, slipping off his suit jacket to place it on her shoulders. “And you should not put yourself in this state either. It cannot be good for the child.”

She hadn’t expected her father to follow. Her mother, yes. Haymitch, perhaps. But not her father.

Her father had always been very careful in staying out of her life as much as possible.

She had often wondered if he had been disappointed by the lack of sons to success him in the family company. Neither she nor Lyssa had had any inclination for business.

He hadn’t been a bad father, he had always made sure they had everything they needed and more,  he had praised when needed and scolded when requested by Elindra, and he had always made a point of attending dinner every night and brunches on every Sunday. However, that had been the extent of his involvement in her life. He had given her money when she had asked and had delivered unwelcomed advises he held as truths when she hadn’t.

She didn’t quite blame him.

Elindra tended to take a lot of space in one’s house and it was hard to make oneself heard over her rule of iron.

She glanced inside the restaurant and saw Haymitch noticeably wincing as her mother talked, waving her hands in the air to better make her point. It was probably nonsensical chatter, she figured, _very_ loud so everyone around would know they weren’t in a feud. Appearances at all cost. Everything he hated.

“I thought leaving him with your mother would be a fitting punishment.” Tadius declared with a hesitant teasing smile.

“Fitting indeed.” she confirmed with a smile of her own.

The whole situation felt tentative on a different level than her newfound relationship with her mother. She and Elindra may never have been best friends, but Elindra was no stranger to her. Her father now… She wasn’t sure she knew how to have a conversation with him.

And it seemed he was having the same problem because he reached for the balustrade with both hands, looking out at the waves crashing on the beach in the distance.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “If you do not wish to marry him, you should know I support your mother’s idea. You are welcomed to come home with your child, Euphemia.”

It touched her more than she was comfortable letting on. She had wondered if Elindra had even told him. Her mother tended to take decisions about people and _inform_ them after the facts.

“It is not that I do not wish to marry him.” she sighed. “However, I will not let him marry me because he feels he _ought_ to.”

“He _does_ ought to.” Tadius pointed out.

Trying to explain why she didn’t want a marriage of reason was pointless. Tadius had married out of love – or perhaps _desire_ – but Elindra had married out of thirst for money and status. Marriages of convenience were the norm more often than not though. As free as they were regarding sex, upper class Capitols were traditional about some things and marriage was one of them. A woman of good repute would not have a child out of wedlock – preferably a _wealthy_ wedlock.

Districts were traditional on that account too. The mere fact that they were living together without having tied the knot was an endless source of gossip in Twelve. But what was _deliciously_ _scandalous_ for a couple was simply _improper_ when a child was involved.

She knew why Haymitch wanted her to marry him. He felt it was his duty and his responsibility.

Well. It wasn’t.

She had always been independent and she did _not_ want a marriage of reason.

She would happily remain one half of Twelve’s scandalous couple instead.

“I did not thank you.” she declared softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Yours and mother’s offer was very generous. I truly appreciated it.”

He studied her with his usual serious expression and then averted his eyes, lips pursed in obvious displeasure.

“What happened between us was dreadful business, Effie, and I should have put my foot down earlier.” he answered. “I should not have let your mother make you think you were banished from our house.”

“I _was_ banished from your house.” she pointed out and then shrugged. “It is alright. I _do_ understand. One’s reputation is…”

“Nothing compared to one’s daughter.” he cut her off firmly. “As Elindra quickly realized.” He shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Your mother has been unhappy. She misses you, we _all_ do, and I _do_ think she learned her lesson this time. When you called her… It allowed her to get out of that situation with her pride intact.”

And her pride was everything to Elindra Trinket.

There was a lump in her throat and she tried to swallow it down. “I miss all of you too. Lyssa…”

“Your sister was very angry after the war.” Tadius interrupted her, always defensive on his eldest’s account. “The loss of her husband was fresh and she blamed you. It was unfair, perhaps, yes. But grief…”

“I am no stranger to grief.” she countered. “ _Or_ pain.” She turned back to watch the view, blinking away the tears those memories always brought to her eyes and forcing a bright smile on her lips. “Please, _do_ tell her to call me sometimes. I do not think I will go to the Capitol in the immediate future but I would love to hear from her.”

Tadius nodded his agreement and then awkwardly reached for her shoulder before dropping his hand halfway there.

“Elindra told me…” he hesitated, anger and pain clearly perceptible in his voice. “She _said_ during the war…”

“Please, I do not wish to talk about that.” she whispered.

Her father closed his eyes and he suddenly looked every year of his age despite the plastic surgeries and the Botox injections.

“When what they truly had done to war prisoners first came out, I was scared you…” he sighed. “I wanted to call you and mend bridges, Effie. It never sat right with me that you would be cast out for something that…” He shook his head again. She didn’t ask why he hadn’t. She was too familiar with what living under Elindra Trinket’s thumb felt like. You didn’t go against her if you wanted to live in peace. He _did_ reach for her then, his hand gripping her shoulder tight before drawing her in a hug that was awkward but also… very _sweet_. “I want to _kill_ everyone who ever laid a finger on you.” he muttered in her ear.

Her father was usually so calm and peaceful that it shocked her a little.

She rested her forehead on his shoulder but didn’t offer an answer. There was none to give.

“And now you are pregnant…” Tadius went on, his voice softening. “It will be different now, dear. Elindra has a lot of flaws, that is true, but she never makes the same mistake twice. We will be a family again, if you let us.”

“I have never wished for us to be estranged, Father.” she replied, breaking the hug. She brought his hand to her stomach though and smiled when his face softened even more. “And I do not wish to keep my child from his grandparents.”

He nodded and, if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought there were _tears_ in her father’s eyes.

“Elindra was afraid your victor would keep you away from us.” he confessed. “But I can see now that her fears were misguided. He has a sound head and it is plain to see he adores you. He seems like a good man.”

“He is.” she hummed with a genuine smile.

“Good. Then you both have my blessing.” he declared. “Not that you ever needed it, mind you, but I want you to know I approve.”

This time it was her who hugged him. A spontaneous hug that was brief but that made her feel a lot better.

“Now.” Tadius cleared his throat. “We should rescue your poor man from your mother’s clutches. She was describing the latest fashion show she attended. I fear he might die of boredom.”

She laughed and let him steer her back inside.

“Here you are! We ordered dessert.” Elindra informed them in a joyful tone. There was nothing joyful in the way she was studying them though, it was almost wary. Her father brushed a hand against her mother’s shoulder on his way back to his seat and Elindra relaxed.

Effie couldn’t remember ever seeing her parents _that_ attuned to each other – never mind the fact that they seemed to _discuss_ things now instead of her mother simply ranting into a deaf ear. It made her curious about what she had missed. Although perhaps she hadn’t missed anything. War tended to break or make relationships.

“I got you strawberries with melted chocolate.” Haymitch grumbled.

She knew better than buying the rough act. He looked almost sheepish.

“My favorite.” she confirmed.

“Knew that.” he snorted, too proud for such a simple feat.

The rest of the dinner went down without further incidents. She was honestly _impressed_ by the civil act Haymitch and Elindra had going toward each other’s. It was obvious it was for _her_ sake and nothing else but she appreciated it nonetheless.

She was still relieved when time came to take the cab back to Annie’s, far too tired suddenly. She almost fell asleep right here and there, watching the lampposts flash by, and she had to force herself to keep her eyes open.

“My father likes you.” she confessed in a hum.

“Yeah?” he smirked. “I liked him too. He doesn’t have bad tastes in books and he’s got decent conversation. For a Capitol.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a mocking grin. “I take it you are not that impressed with Mother.”

He let out a long suffering sigh. “She lectured me about fashion for _twenty fucking minutes_ when you were outside. Sweetheart, do I look like I care about the real leather versus imitation debate?”

“What did you answer to that, I wonder?” she chuckled.

“That you never wear leather so I know _shit_ about it but that Katniss can probably hunt her something to make a decent hide with.” he shrugged.

She burst out laughing and the weird tension that had lingered between them seemed to finally vanish. “You _know_ she might take you up on that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well…” he scorned. “She made it obvious she wanted to visit at some point anyway so…”

She turned her head to watch him even though he was looking through his own window. He looked exhausted too and she wondered how much was due to the lack of liquor.

“Would you be comfortable with that? My family visiting?” she asked.

“It’s your family.” he shrugged. “It’s your business what you do with them. You want them to visit, fine. You don’t want them to, that’s fine too. Ain’t my place to tell you what to do.” She slipped her hand in his and squeezed once in gratitude. Her life was difficult enough without having a feud between her parents and her… _other half_. He looked at her and squeezed back before wincing. “Look, about the marriage stuff…”

“Forget it.” she warned.

“No, but… Might have made a mess earlier…” he insisted, his wince deepening. “Wasn’t expecting that to come up.”

“It is fine.” she snapped. “I do not wish to get married just because…”

“Come on.” he scoffed. “You know it’s not _just_ about that.”

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. She knew Haymitch loved her, she was confident in that fact. And she knew an eventual marriage would never have been loveless. But _still_. It felt as if he was _considering_ it _just_ because she was carrying his baby.

“This is the worst proposal I have ever heard.” she huffed. “And I have been asked for my hand _many times_. So I think I will still decline.”

“Wasn’t _actually_ proposing.” he grumbled.

“Wonderful.” she deadpanned. “Then we can forget everything about it and simply enjoy the rest of the night without a fight.”

His smirk was teasing. “You’re sure we can go _all night_ without a fight? Seems optimistic to me.”

Well…

She was supposed to be the optimistic one, wasn’t she?


	13. Nineteen Weeks

The puppies were little more than balls of white fur with black eyes and pink tongues. There were five of them left, rolling around in the light coat of snow with the little girl, under the watchful eyes of their mother. For puppies, they were huge, the size of a small dog at least, but that were Samoyeds for you, Haymitch figured.

“Haven’t found anyone to take them yet?” he asked Riley, almost wishing Katniss had caved and had adopted one – even though she claimed Buttercup was enough of a pet for a lifetime.

The old man rubbed the back of his neck and gave the dogs a wince. “Nah. Not many takers. Got a phone call from someone in Seven who would take two but… Can’t keep three of them on my own though.”

Haymitch glanced at Effie who was still talking with Eileen Clarke a few feet away. They had met the woman and her daughter on their way out of the Hob and the two of them had been chatting ever since. It had been fifteen minutes – fifteen minutes of him more or less having to entertain Eileen’s daughter – and he was starting to think they would never get to their appointment at the clinic on time. Effie tended to forget she didn’t walk as fast as she used to.

“The kid might take one if you can convince the mom.” he joked, nodding at the little girl whose red hair was flying around as the puppies chased after her.

“They make good friends for little kids.” Riley nodded. “They’re good guard dogs too.”

Haymitch knew he was hinting at something but he pretended not to understand, crouching down to pat the head of the puppy who had wandered away from the pack to sniff his boots. It immediately wriggled its tail and gave a joyful shrill bark, jumping left and right, clearly hoping for him to join its game. He buried his shaky gloved fingers in its thick fur with a smirk, ruffling it until the puppy rolled on its back to present its belly.

It was cute. Very, very cute.

He had owned a dog once. A _very_ long time ago. His little brother had dragged a mutt back home, begging to be allowed to keep it… The dog had stayed for two days – time enough to infest the whole house with fleas –and then had run away and had never come back. Overall, it wasn’t his best pet experience but… He had liked the idea of a dog.

He heard Eileen calling her daughter but it wasn’t until he felt Effie’s presence at his side that he looked up with pleading eyes.

She stared at him for a second, lifted an eyebrow, and then proceeded to smile at Riley, exchange a few pleasantries, and make their excuses because they had an appointment to keep. He patted the puppy’s head once more and said his own goodbye, trying not to notice that the dog ran after them on a few feet until Riley whistled it back to his side.

“Say, sweetheart…” he hesitated.

“Eileen is approaching her due date.” she declared, not leaving him a chance to finish. “Isn’t it exciting? We need to find a gift for the baby… They are having another girl… There are a lot of cute dresses in that store in town…”

Her eyes took a faraway glaze that he had learned to recognize long ago: there would be a shopping frenzy in her near future. It made him smirk. She was _hyper_ lately. She didn’t sleep well because the baby kept moving in the middle of the night and thus she was tired but glowing at the same time – because her favorite thing in the world now seemed to be feeling the shrimp move. He was starting to kick but not strongly enough to be felt yet. He kept placing his hands on her stomach but was disappointed every time. He should be able to feel him soon though and _he couldn’t_ _wait_.

“You want a girl yourself just so you can dress her up in ridiculous clothes.” he teased.

She bit down on her bottom lip and adjusted her woolen scarf but couldn’t hide her excitement. “We will know soon, there is no point presuming.” Her eyes were twinkling madly and she looped her arms around his, a bright smile on her lips. “Can you imagine? In two hours we will know if we are having a boy or a girl…”

The words made him thirsty for liquor because they were terrifying.

They also made him want to kiss her, so that was what he did, not quite minding the fact that they were in public. The street was mostly deserted. December’s cold made people hurry from one point to another, and he was done hiding anyway. And, truth be told, being rewarded by her very pleased smile was enough for him to fight his own privacy issues.

They had been _good_ ever since Four, despite the marriage disaster. They had sex, they planned their future with just enough excitement that they didn’t let the fear terrify them into stupor, they comforted each other when doubt crept in, they bickered, they bantered, they smiled and touched each other at every given opportunity like they were teenagers in love and not two adults who had been together for more than a decade… He dared say they were _happy_. And he loved being happy.

“So…” he prompted, as they started walking again. “You want a girl?”

“I suppose I would love a baby girl.” she hummed. “But honestly I just want our child to be healthy. I would be happy with either. What about you?”

He thought about it long and hard – as if he hadn’t been thinking about it for weeks yet – and he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’d just want to… you know… _know._ ”

“Yes.” she grinned, quickening her pace and forcing him to do the same. He didn’t protest too much because he was just as impatient as she was.

They managed to get to the clinic on time but barely just. It wasn’t a bad thing in Haymitch’s opinion because at least, that way, they didn’t waste their time sitting in the waiting room, trying to pretend they didn’t notice everyone was staring at them.

He was more than aware that a few people in Twelve – if not in the whole country – not only disapproved her pregnancy but also plainly _resented_ it. So far, aside for the incident with Clay at the grocery shop, the worst that had happened was a few overheard comments. Effie  hadn’t gone out of the house much since she had come back from Four – she had insisted on cleaning it from floor to ceiling because he had made a mess in her absence and the first snow fall of the season hadn’t been an inducement for her to walk around since she hated being cold. Still, Haymitch was a bit uneasy with the blatant hostility of some people and if that had tended to make him overprotective before, it was nothing compared to _now_.

There was no hiding how impatient they were from Doctor Larcher who smiled indulgently at them as they went through the infuriating process of small talk. Haymitch was relieved when they moved on to actually health related matters but he kept tapping his foot all the time the doctor asked Effie questions – despite her pointed looks.

He sighed in relief when the ultrasound machine was rolled closer.

It wasn’t their first ultrasound by any means and they knew what to expect now. Still, Haymitch grabbed Effie’s hand and squeezed, not even fighting his smirk. She answered that with a bright smile of her own.

It took a few minutes before Larcher found the right angle and the whooshing sound of the machine was covered by the strong heartbeat of their child. It wasn’t a sound Haymitch would ever get tired of. Every time, he felt a lump in his throat.

He didn’t mean to cling tighter to her hand but he did and she looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears she hastily blinked back.

He knew she still had her misgivings and the deep fear that something would go wrong was still there although slightly muted… But at times like this… It was easy to let go and just…

_It was their baby._

He still had troubles processing the thought sometimes.

“Is he healthy?” she asked, her voice a bit rougher than usual.

Larcher’s eyes were riveted to the screen as he moved the sensor a little, taking notes on the chart with his free hand.

“As healthy as can be.” the doctor promised.

Just then the baby did… _something_. It _moved_ … Or _rolled_ … Or…

Effie chuckled. “He does that a lot.”

Haymitch watched the monitor, completely fascinated. It was one thing to know the baby was doing stuff in her stomach, it was completely another to _see_ it with his own two eyes.

“He’s active, that’s very good.” Larcher commented. “You will be able to interact with him soon. He will react to voices and vibrations… I strongly encourage you to start talking to him.”

“Is it a him?” Haymitch asked, unable to contain himself any longer. He wanted to know suddenly, so he could picture himself with a toddler and have a proper _accurate_ freak out.

The doctor glanced at him and tried to find a better angle even though the baby seemed to be awake and quite agitated. “I would say… Yes. He’s a _he_.”

“A boy…” Effie beamed, squeezing his hand, her smile so big it must have hurt. “Haymitch, we are having a boy!”

“A son…” he whispered and felt the imperative need to sit down.

It was a good thing Larcher was attentive – and probably used to this sort of things – because the man placed the sensor down and immediately pushed a stool in his direction right in time for his legs to give in.

“Alright there, Haymitch?” the doctor asked, a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He was studying him with attention and so was Effie.

Haymitch could only blink. The chuckles took him by surprise but soon turned to laughter and he placed his hand on her round stomach, not minding the sticky gel one bit.

“Effie, we’re having a kid.” he declared.

It might have been the most stupid thing he had ever said.

“Why, I am relieved you _finally_ noticed.” she deadpanned, a tad teasing.

He rolled his eyes but he couldn’t stop smirking because… “We’re having a baby boy.”

“You don’t say.” she laughed at him but soon took pity, her own smile was impossible to fight. “A boy.”

“A boy.” he repeated.

Larcher was good enough not to laugh – too much.

It was still some time before they were allowed out of there. More questions for Effie, more recommendations… And then it was his turn to be grilled with questions about how he was doing, if he was handling withdrawals alright, if the pills helped, if he needed more…

He was relieved when they finally stepped out of the clinic, still reeling high on their new discovery. It seemed they couldn’t stop smiling. They would look at each other and they would smile and it was like everything was enhanced. The cold wind, the brightness of the snow covering the pavement, the sharp blue winter sky…

It had been some time since he had seen Effie so happy and it made him feel even better. It was cliché how utterly blissful he felt, walking down the streets that would take them back to the Victors’ Village, her arms looped tight around his.

 “We are really doing this, aren’t we?” she hummed as they took a turn not too far from the bakery.

He briefly toyed with the idea of making a detour to tell Peeta the news but thought better of it. One, the kid needed to focus on the roof they were finishing so he could open soon. Two, if he told Peeta before he told Katniss, there would be hell to pay.

“Yeah.” he smirked. “We’re doing this.”

He was rewarded with a squeeze on his arm and he glanced down at her. She looked so beautiful… Her blue eyes madly twinkling, her cheeks pink both from the walk and the excitement… He reached out with his free hand to adjust her woolen scarf around her throat, and there was such tenderness in her gaze…

_I love you…_

The feeling was familiar but the words that floated in his mind were almost foreign. They died on his tongue before they could even pass his lips and it frustrated him because he wanted to tell her. She knew, he knew she knew, but knowing and hearing it weren’t the same thing.

He was so focused on her that he almost missed it. There was a movement at the corner of his eyes, a flash of brown leather, and, when he looked, there was Clay, leaning against a shop window, watching them… How long had the man been there? Haymitch could have sworn he had already caught sight of him at the Hob earlier. Was he following them or was it just a coincidence?

But the pure _hatred_ in the man’s eyes…

“Haymitch?” Effie frowned, following his gaze. Her face hardened and she tugged on his arm. “Let’s go home.”

He swallowed hard, clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to confront the guy. He let her drag him away, one arm still firmly looped around his and her free hand rubbing her stomach over her coat.

“If you see him around and you’re alone…” he started after a few minutes.

“I am not stupid.” she countered. “And I am no stranger to being careful in public. I used to be famous once upon a time, if you remember.”

It was an attempt at levity, not a great one but an attempt all the same, and so he let out a long deep breath and tried to push the bad feeling in his stomach aside. “We’re gonna have to talk names, yeah?”

She brightened, the spring back in her steps as she steered them toward the Village. “Oh, we have some time yet but it never hurt to be prepared… We should have stopped at the bookstore… They have baby names books…”

He had meant _last_ _names_ , really, but he wasn’t sure now was the perfect time to put the marriage thing back on the table. She was happy, _they_ were happy, and he didn’t want to start an argument.

“Nothing ridiculous.” he stated. “That rules out most Capitol names.”

She rolled her eyes at him and whacked his shoulder. “Do you want to name him after someone?”

The question was hesitant but he figured it was reasonable.

He made a face. “Like who?”

“Your brother?” she offered with reluctance because they _never_ talked about his family. He tensed but before he could completely freak out, she rubbed his arm and soldiered on. “Or Chaff, if you really want to. I can’t say I would love it but he was your best friend and I would understand if you wished to pay tribute to him. _Cinna_ also comes to mind but…”

“Katniss won’t like that.” he finished. Or, more accurately, she might appreciate the gesture but then have a panic attack every time they called their boy and that might be problematic in the long run. He wrinkled his nose. “Our kid is his own person. I don’t want… Look, I put my brother to rest. Chaff too. I don’t need… I don’t need _that_. They don’t either.”

She nodded and he couldn’t help but notice she looked relieved. “It was simply a suggestion. I would prefer a name without strings attached too. Ideally, I would have loved my grandfather’s name but my sister got there before me I am afraid. Two Timotheo would be confusing.”

_Timotheo_ wasn’t so bad a name. Long and Capitol but they could always have shortened it to _Tim_ or _Theo_. He was sure she could come up with worse than that.

They stopped for a moment at the foot of the slope leading up to the Village so she could catch her breath. Haymitch kept glancing at their surroundings, unable to shake off the feeling of foreboding. He wasn’t always at the house with her and he realized he couldn’t always make sure she didn’t wander around the District by herself – it wasn’t fair on her and it wasn’t fair on the kids. He also realized once the baby would be born, it would be twice as hard to keep them both safe from people who had grudges and less than kind intentions.

As they finally trekked up the slope to the Village, his resolution cemented. When they reached their front door, he was completely decided.

“I’m dying for a cup of tea.” she sighed, fishing around her purse for their keys.

He waited until she had opened the door to bury his hands in his pockets. “I forgot something in town, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Oh.” she frowned. “Alright. Could you swing by the bookstore, then?”

“Sure.” he nodded. “Get some rest, yeah? Take a nap or something…”

She rolled her eyes at him but there was a smile tugging at her mouth. She planted a kiss on his lips.

“I promised Mother I would call her after the ultrasound.” she declared. “So I will call while drinking my tea and then I will lie down and knit for a while. Satisfied?” 

“Thrilled.” he deadpanned but pecked her right back.

She shook her head at his antics but disappeared inside, leaving him to head back into town. He was attentive but he couldn’t spot Clay anywhere. Maybe it _had_ been a coincidence, then. Maybe he was being paranoid and overprotective. However they had been through _so much_ it was hard not to be.

His first stop was the bookstore where he left the woman behind the counter select the appropriate books for him, painfully nodding and restraining himself from being rude faced with her curious questions. Gossip would follow that visit, he knew it.

He made several other stops and it was late by the time he finally got back to the Village, his arms full of bags.

He was also a bit scared she would kill him.

Once everything was inside, bags in a heap in the corridor, he wasn’t scared anymore, he was _certain_ he was about to be mauled to death – she had just redone her manicure the previous day and he was quite sure her claws were sharp.

“Sweetheart?” he called out.

He could have done without the high pitched bark that echoed it.

She came out of the kitchen, wearing one of those pink leggings that were stretchy enough to accommodate her belly and lost in one of his grey sweatshirt, her blond hair tied up in a messy ponytail. She didn’t look impressed.

“What is this?” she asked.

And another happy bark answered her.

“Surprise?” he tried, looking a bit sheepish. The puppy barked again, crouching low and then hopping left and right, before rolling on himself, apparently perfectly happy to entertain himself. “He’s cute and fluffy. You _like_ cute and fluffy.” he reminded her. He wasn’t about to go so low as begging her to let him keep it. He wasn’t a kid and she wasn’t his mother. He was a grown man who could decide to get a dog if he wanted to and he didn’t need her approbation. All the more so given that the dog would be very big once adult and that it should convince anyone to think twice before coming after her or their child.  “Look, he needed a home.”

She pursed her lips and folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Well.” she huffed. “We have the house, we have the white picket fence, now we have a dog… I guess it is a good thing we started with the children already. We have some work to do to reach the traditional 2.5.”

He winced. “Effie…”

“You could have consulted me.” she snapped. “If you wanted a pet, I would have preferred a cat. And we are already having _a baby_ , do you _truly_ think we need another one? It will leave hairs _everywhere_. And…”

The puppy wandered to her, sniffing her feet and her legs before sitting back, his pink tongue poking out of his mouth. He barked twice and she sighed, bending just enough to pat his head. He wasn’t satisfied with that and tried to stand up on his hinder legs to seek her hand.

“Samoyeds are good with kids.” he told her. “They can grow up together. Kids like dogs.”

She still didn’t look happy but the puppy was making a good job at convincing her he was a cute innocent little thing that needed a home. It licked her hand – which made her frown – and barked at her, demanding cuddles.

“Look at this fur… He will shed it everywhere…” she sighed. “Who will clean up? I am not a housemaid, you know.”

“I’ll clean up.” he promised.

“You will train him too.” she declared. “There won’t be _any_ bad surprise in the house, am I clear? And he better _not_ come anywhere near my shoes.”

“I bought some stuff. It should keep him busy.” he pacified her, grabbing her shoulders and steering her toward the couch because he didn’t know how long she had been up but he was _very_ sure she should rest more.

She had barely sat down when the puppy jumped on the couch next to her.

“Now, now, that _won’t_ do.” she chided him, gently tangling her fingers in his thick fur. “No dog on the furniture.”

“I’ll put up a shed in the backyard for him.” he declared.

She immediately frowned and grabbed the puppy, holding it close to her chest, to the dog’s obvious delight. “It is too cold, poor thing!” She pouted at him as if he was the most cruel man to ever walk the Earth and she scratched the puppy’s neck. “We will buy him a nice bed. Oh, and a pretty collar… And a shiny plate. He needs his own plate if we are to keep him.” 

He rolled his eyes, not quite ready to confess everything she had just listed was in the bags in the corridor, and dropped on the couch next to her. The puppy immediately escaped her to come to him and then amused himself walking back and forth to demand cuddles.

“Did you name him yet?” he snorted after a while of her alternating between berating him for taking decisions without consulting her and going completely crazy over the fluffy ball of fur.

“It is either Amadeus or Snowball.” she declared without a second of hesitation.

He shook his head, not even trying to hide his chuckles. “Can’t wait to argue about children names with you, sweetheart…” He scratched the puppy behind the ears. “Snowball it is.”

“Somehow, I knew you would choose this one.” she teased.

He snorted again and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her lean against his chest, the puppy jumping around, exploring his new home.

It wasn’t so hard to imagine a baby crawling around after the dog…

And, with Effie in his arms and his hand on her pregnant belly, it wasn’t that scary either.


	14. Twenty Weeks

Effie burrowed in her green woolen sweater as she hung up the phone and she hurried back to the living-room – easily the warmest room in the house. It was a grayish sort of day and she hated those. Snowflakes were lazily falling outside, slowly but surely making the roads unusable. It was common weather for winter in Twelve and it was precisely the kind Effie despised. It was cold and wet and depressing.

She shivered in relief when she stepped in the living-room and glimpsed the roaring fire in the fireplace. Nothing had moved in that room in her absence: Haymitch was still reading on the couch and Snowball was still lying in front of the hearth, chewing on his bone-shaped toy.

“That was short.” Haymitch snorted, not glancing up from his book. The cover was glossy and she was certain it was the kind of cheap paperbacks he always claimed to be dreadful but often read in one or two settings. “Your mom had a stroke or something?”

Given that she _had_ been spending quite some time on the phone with her Mother – and on a few tentative occasions with her sister – since her return from Four, she accepted the gibe good-naturally.

“It wasn’t Mother, if you must know.” she informed him.

She sat down next to him on the couch, unable to control her wince. How he could notice that when his eyes were glued to his novel was anyone’s guess but suddenly the book was lowered on his lap and he was frowning. “You’re okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” she promised. “It is my back again. Nothing to worry about.” She carefully lied down, using his lap as a pillow, her legs hooked over the armrest of the couch, her back flat against the cushions. The now familiar backache eased a little and she breathed a sigh of relief. He studied her attentively for a minute and she rolled her eyes. “I am _fine_. Won’t you ask me who called us?”

He shrugged and propped his book open on his own armrest, draping his other arm across her torso. Her hands immediately closed around his biceps, her palms running over the soft grey sleeve of his shirt.

“Do I _care_ who called us?” he mocked.

Annoyed with his pretending to be aloof, she rolled her eyes again. “It was Liam. Eileen delivered a perfectly healthy baby girl last night. It all went very well.”

“Yeah?” he said, distracted. “Nice.”

“Isn’t it?” she grinned, lightly running her nails up and down his arm. She placed her free hand on her stomach, her smile softening. “I told him I would visit as soon as the weather allows it.”

“Snow won’t stick.” he prophesized. “Not cold enough.”

It _was_ cold enough to her taste. “Then, I will go tomorrow.”

He turned the page of his novel. “Take Snowball with you.”   

It sounded like a suggestion but it wasn’t really a request, more like a demand.

She wasn’t _quite_ oblivious to what his plan had been when he had brought back a dog that would soon be roughly the size of a small _pony_.

She still wasn’t one hundred percent certain the puppy had been a necessary addition to their household but, truth be told, Snowball was cute and he had claimed her heart before an hour had passed. He was a tiny fluffy ball of fur who always wanted to be cuddled and played with and just because he was so adorable she could get over the smell of wet dog that always clung to the house for a whole hour after Haymitch had walked him.

The puppy was all cute now but she had seen his mother. Snowball would be big and, while adorable, probably intimidating to strangers. Even now, as young as he was, he still stuck close to her heels when she wandered outside with him and she didn’t know what sort of training Haymitch was putting the dog through but he _did_ seem to take his guard puppy duties seriously. There had been one time, a couple of days earlier, when she had been talking with Sae and the woman had shouted after one of her waitresses and Snowball, who had been happily playing around her feet until that moment, had growled in a very threatening fashion. Raised voices in her vicinity – or Haymitch’s for that matter – was a big no-no as far as the puppy was concerned.

She supposed it had been Haymitch’s master plan all along.

But he had also really, _really_ wanted the puppy. She hadn’t been _that_ surprised when he had brought Snowball home. Not only had she not been oblivious to the look he had given her in the Hob when they had met Riley and his dogs, he had also alluded several times to the fact it was a _shame_ Katniss wouldn’t take in one of them. There had been a spark of longing in his eyes, the kind that told her he had always wanted one and had always denied himself. She wanted him to be happy. If he wanted a puppy…

And she had no doubt Snowball and their boy would be best friends. It would be a good thing in the long run – because she didn’t mind the idea of her son walking around with a dog the size of a pony ready to growl at threatening people either.

“What did they call her?” Haymitch asked.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn’t follow. “Who?”

“The Clarkes’ baby.” he clarified, a tad mocking. “What did they call her?”

“Oh… Fanny.” she hummed, stretching a little.

She shifted until she found a comfortable position and closed her eyes. Haymitch didn’t comment, too focused on his novel probably. His hand somehow ended in her hair and she immediately relaxed. She used to be really confused by his obsession for her plain blond curls but she had long grown used to it now. She _loved_ it when he did that. It lulled her to sleep. She drifted off and she would have completely fallen asleep if the baby hadn’t suddenly decided it was time to play once more – _every time_ she tried to sleep, _every time_. She groaned and instinctively placed her hand against her stomach. 

“Effie?” he worried.

“He kicked.” she laughed in delight. It had never been that strong before. She usually felt him move inside her and there had been a kick or two but nothing _that_ strong.

“Yeah?” Haymitch asked, the excitement was clear in his voice. The novel was dropped without a second thought when she guided his hand on her stomach to where she thought their baby’s feet to be. It took almost a whole minute before he kicked again.

“Did you feel it?” she asked, peering up at Haymitch’s face. The answer was written on his features. He looked in awe.

“Hey, shrimp.” he whispered.

It almost brought tears to her eyes but she blinked them away before he could see them. He wouldn’t have appreciated it.

They played at following the kicking with their palms until the baby finally seemed to go back to sleep.  Their hands remained on her stomach long after the kicking stopped.

It was such a perfect day, she mused, _despite the weather_. The logs popping in the fireplace, the low growls of the puppy as he played with his toy, cuddling on the couch, feeling _their son_ move…

There had been a time in her life, when she had been nothing but a rotting corpse who had forgotten to die in its cell, when she had thought she would never be happy again. She hadn’t even been able to recall what being happy _felt_ like.  

This, right now, very much felt like pure bliss to her.

It brought up questions naturally. Why this pregnancy was different from the ones that had come before, for one. She still couldn’t shake off the latent fear that something would go very wrong.

She had accepted during her time in prison that her life was at an end. It had been difficult to learn how to live again, to _try_ … And she _had_ tried in the Capitol after the war. And when she had failed…

Rushing to Twelve had been a relief. Admitting that her former life was a thing of the past, something that had died in her cell with the flamboyant Effie Trinket, had been a _relief_. She had been at her lowest when she had showed up on Haymitch’s doorstep. She had been at a point where taking a handful of pills and going to bed to never wake up had looked like a tempting option. The feeling had worn off after a while. Twelve had helped in that regard. Leaving the city behind, finally accepting she wasn’t the same person she used to be and never would be again… She had felt brand new after a few weeks. The same but different. Not quite as shattered but not whole yet. It was a distressing paradox but one she had learned to live with. 

She watched Haymitch’s fingers drawing ridiculous patterns on the stretchy waistband of her apple green woolen leggings – winter maternity clothes weren’t as fashionable as she would have liked but she made it work with colors – and she wondered if it was the same for him. If the Haymitch from before the rebellion would ever have managed to accept the possibility of having a baby so readily – almost eagerly – if he would have managed to put his liquor down for the sake of his son.

And, she knew, deep down, that the answer was _yes_.

Haymitch hadn’t changed that much. Peace had acted like a balm on old wounds and had smoothed his scars but… She couldn’t help but feel the whole children debate had been all about circumstances, just like having a serious relationship… Anyone close to him would automatically have become a pressure point, a weakness to exploit. And he had lost so many people already… He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of letting anyone in when the threat of losing them was a very distinct possibility, when his sole affection was a danger to them. And yet she couldn’t help but feel that, even back then, if the threat had been removed, if he hadn’t been so certain any loved one of his would die… He would have done right by their child. With more misgivings perhaps but he would have done what was _right_ in the end.

That was the kind of man he was.

“It was never because I didn’t love him or because I was scared I wouldn’t love him.” she murmured, suddenly needing to make her point clear.  

The last months… They had been _hard_.

In another world, in another _life_ , those months should have been just as happy as _this_ moment, right then, but instead they had been hard. And she wasn’t selfish or stupid enough to think they had only been hard on _her_. However, she was also not selfish or stupid enough not to realize most of that hardship had come _from_ her. She was the one who had been so terrified of having a miscarriage that she hadn’t been able to _accept_ the pregnancy, she was the one who had doubted – and _still_ did to some extent – that they could _actually_ do this, she was the one who had wanted to seriously consider letting someone else raise their child…

“I know.” he offered. It was calm and accepting.

“They tore me apart. Not just my body.” she continued, her throat closing a little. Her sight was blurred with tears but she kept her eyes fixed on the hand he was now gently rubbing her stomach with. She didn’t need to tell him that. He had been there when the rebels had patched her up. He had been there when she had been, for all intent and purpose, locked in a hospital room until the power-that-be could decide what they wanted to do with her. He had been there when she had collapsed in tears, when she had panicked so badly she couldn’t tell where she was anymore or screamed herself hoarse from a nightmare – he _still_ was. He had apologized a thousand times for every scar, had _kissed_ every scar… He had been there _every step of the way._ She knew, on some level, he understood but she needed to _say_ it. “They _broke_ me.”

He was silent for a moment and then his hand left her stomach to cup her cheek. The angle was a bit awkward but she leaned in his hand all the same. She could feel the tremor in his fingers yet she couldn’t tell if it came from anger or from the lack of liquor.

“They _didn’t_ break you.” he countered. “They _fucked_ you up but they didn’t _break_ you.”

“Language.” she rebuked in a broken chuckle, placing her palms on her stomach. “He will hear you.”

“I’m serious.” he insisted, not quite falling into the usual banter she expected him to. “You’re not broken, sweetheart. You’re surviving. And if you’re like me… Someday you’re gonna wake up and you’re gonna realize you’re not surviving anymore, you’re _living_ , and it’s… It’s _good_. Yeah.” His hand fell to her neck, his thumb running up and down her throat. “And it’s thanks to you and the kids.”

She licked her lips, the lump in her throat growing by the second, not quite sure how to respond to _that_.

“I love you.” she answered because it was the _truest_ thing she could think of.

His grey eyes, so serious for once, softened and his lips stretched into a smirk. “We’re gonna be alright, Effie.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck with obvious embarrassment. “I won’t fall down the bottle again. Not with him.”

“I know.” she promised. And she did. It was _hard_ for him. Nothing about sobriety came easily. It was an everyday struggle, an everyday _fight_. It helped that nobody in the District would sell him liquor because it removed the temptation. Their son also helped because he was determined to keep away from alcohol for his sake. But it _wasn’t_ easy. There were bad days – there were _very bad_ nights – and he was a lot more anxious than before. She admired him for it, really. It was hard to give up a clutch he had relied on for so long. “I trust you, Haymitch. I trust you with my life and I trust you with our son’s. It’s _myself_ I don’t trust.”

He scoffed. “Stupid. You’re gonna be a great mom. That boy will love you.”

“Let us hope so.” she sighed and rolled over a little so she could sit up – it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. She placed her hands at the small of her back and _pressed,_ stretching to relieve the ache that had been starting to settle in. Then she pushed herself up and smiled when she saw the puppy lifting his head up and tracking her every move, hope shining in his dark eyes. “It is _not_ dinner time yet. You are a stomach on legs, I swear.”

Instead of feeling insulted, Snowball wagged his tail and ran over, placing his front paws on Haymitch’s knees. Naturally, Haymitch humored him by petting him before leaning in to grab one of the toys scattered on the floor.

She wandered to the kitchen, leaving them to play fetch. She put the kettle to boil and peered outside, not quite happy to spot white as far as the eye could see. Big snowflakes were still steadily falling from the sky. It wasn’t a storm by any mean but she wasn’t sure she was as confident as Haymitch was about snow not sticking in.

She grabbed two mugs and she was just placing tea bags in them when she heard the unmistakable scampering of the puppy, followed by heavier footsteps. Not surprisingly, Snowball made a beeline for his plate and seemed disappointed to find it empty. He looked up at Effie with a pleading look that made her roll her eyes. She grabbed a treat from the bag on the counter and tossed it high, watching him jump to snatch it from the air.

“Knew you would like the dog.” Haymitch taunted, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. His stubble rasped against her skin in a familiar fashion that prompted her to let her head fall on his shoulder, giving him free access.

“Well, he _is_ rather cute and fluffy. It was futile to resist.” she joked.

He left an open-mouthed kiss on her throat, poking at the skin with his tongue, but instead of pursuing that train of thought, he then propped his chin on her shoulder. There was an odd tension in his attitude.

“I’m gonna say something…” he hesitated. “But I’m not… It’s not second guessing, yeah? ‘Cause I want the kid. I _really_ do, sweetheart. And I meant what I said in Four, we can do it.”

“Alright.” she frowned.

Whatever he wanted to say, it seemed to be difficult because silence stretched up until the kettle disrupted it by whistling. He let go of her to turn off the stove and pour the hot water in the mugs. Then, and only then, did he speak, his eyes riveted on the now useless kettle in his hand. “I’ve killed eight people.”

Her frown deepened. “Eight?”

He had killed seven tributes in his arena. She was _certain_ , she hadn’t been his biggest fan for nothing.

His eyes darted to hers and then away. He placed the kettle down and swallowed hard.

She reached out for his shoulder, relieved when he didn’t shrug her hand away. “Haymitch, who was the eighth?”

His jaw clenched and his hands closed into fists. He looked both ashamed and furious. “After the surrender, when it was still chaos… There was a guard. One of yours. He wouldn’t shut up, Effie. He wouldn’t…” He shook his head. “ _That one_ I don’t regret.”

She felt as if someone had poured a bucket of icy water over her head. “You killed him because…”

“I killed him because he was a sick bastard who had hurt you and wanted to tell me all the details.” he cut her off. “I’d do it again. I’d kill them _all_ and not feel sorry for one second.”

“You don’t mean that.” she refuted. She _knew_ him. He might not feel sorry about killing someone who had tortured her but he would feel guilty about _not_ feeling sorry.

“That’s the thing.” he snorted. “I do.” He shook his head again. “I’ve killed eight people and I’ve failed  to save forty-six kids. Add my family and my girlfriend to the mix… Fifty-seven dead. On me. Never mind Finnick, Chaff and the others…” He took a deep breath. “How are we going to explain to our son I’m a monster?”

She didn’t give herself time to hesitate. “Easily. You are _not_. What you did in the Games, you did out of _necessity_. You had _no_ choice.”

“Sure, I did.” he snarled. “I could have dropped the knife and…”

“No, you could _not_ have.” she interrupted firmly. “You are too much of a survivor, Haymitch. And you wanted to go back to your family very badly.”

“For the good it did them.” he chuckled bitterly.

“ _That_ was not your fault.” she countered. “No more than the tributes. We did what we could, that’s what you said. It was not enough and, _yes_ , we bear a part of responsibility. But you did not kill them. If one of us did, it was _me_. I reaped them.”

“Don’t start with that.” he grumbled. “Told you. You can take the whole blame for…”

“Then, neither can _you_.” she snapped. “As for Finnick, Chaff, and the others… They knew what they were risking and I _dare_ say none of them expected you to save them. You are _no_ monster, Haymitch.” She sighed and wrapped her hands around her mug, not quite minding the hot porcelain under her palms. “How will we explain _me_? I was an escort and… How will we explain _that_? It is _worse_.”

“Is it?” he scowled and then shrugged, bending down to scratch Snowball’s behind the ears. The puppy, probably sensing the mood was turning sour, had dropped his whole body on Haymitch’s foot. “Maybe we can just… Look, maybe we can explain everything when he’s old enough to _really_ understand, yeah? It’s not like we can hide it from him but… We can explain the general situation when he starts asking questions and, _later…_ Say, when he’s fifteen or sixteen, we can go in details.”

“Do we have to?” she winced. “Perhaps he won’t want to know.”

“He’s our kid. He’s going to be curious.” he replied. “And it’s not right to hide it.”

She still wasn’t convinced but she let out a long sigh. “It gives us some time to think about _how_ to tell him.”

“Yeah.” he nodded, a bit uncertain. “And… He’s gonna have a solid brain anyway. He’ll know… He’ll _get_ it was a different world, right?”

“I am sure he will.” she offered with more confidence than she felt. It was obvious he needed the reassurance. She nudged his untouched mug in his direction with a small smile. “Drink your tea.”

He did take a sip, tugging one of the furniture catalogs she had left on the counter closer. She had dog-eared some pages but she hadn’t decided on anything yet. They hadn’t really discussed what they were going to do with the baby’s room yet.

“You want to put the nursery in the study or in the guest room?” he asked. “’Cause I was thinking… We should start painting. Peeta’s been talking my ear off about letting him do it…”

“The guest room would be the best option, I think.” she hummed. The study was downstairs and she didn’t like the idea of their child being on the ground floor by himself. She didn’t like the idea of going up and down the stairs every time he would need feeding either. “It might get a bit too sunny in the afternoon in summer but we could get a roller blind…”

“It’s bigger.” he agreed. “And there’s a bathroom.”

“Yes.” she nodded, having taken that into account herself. “We need to make room in the attic or the cellar before you start taking the furniture apart though. Then Peeta can paint.”

He snorted at that before taking another sip of his tea, flicking through the pages. “You’ve thought about him?”

He sounded very detached but Effie knew better.

“Peeta?” she frowned, confused.

He rolled his eyes. “ _Our kid_. Imagine him, I mean. What he will look like.”

There was excitement on his face and, maybe, some impatience.

“Oh…” she grinned. “Of course. I dreamed about him, even. He always looks like you.”

“Funny.” he snorted. “When I picture him, he looks like you.”

She didn’t think it was funny, she thought it was sweet.

She leaned against his side and pretended to look at the furniture on display in the catalogue.

“I _do_ hope he has your eyes.” she hummed.

“As long as he doesn’t have my temper…” he joked.

_That_ , she couldn’t dispute.


	15. Twenty Two Weeks

_“Fucking_ piece of _shit_.” Haymitch muttered between clenched teeth, kicking the twisted pieces of metal that were left from the bed frame. The guestroom hadn’t been difficult to empty but the bed was reluctant to go – Haymitch had been trying to put it apart for _days_. They had resorted to painting with the thing abandoned in the middle of the room – well, _Peeta_ had painted while Haymitch had fought with the bed.

The nursery’s walls were a very pale yellow with a large white band in the middle for the cartoonish animals Peeta was planning on painting. Haymitch had seen the thing on paper and he thought it looked okay – Effie had exclaimed and bounced on her feet for ten minutes like an overexcited five years old though, so he supposed it must be _that_ good.

Snowball, who had been lying in the corridor – not being allowed anywhere near fresh paint to prevent Effie from having an aneurism at the thought of his fur getting dirty – suddenly jumped upright and ran downstairs, barking. 

Unsurprisingly, two minutes later, Haymitch heard the door opening and closing and Effie’s voice greeting the puppy as if they had been separated for months instead of a couple of hours. He had wanted her to take the dog but she had claimed it wouldn’t be practical since she had an appointment with Larcher and the dog would have had to remain alone outside the clinic – _the tragedy_.

He still didn’t like the idea of her walking around the District by herself for now but Katniss had gotten her from their house to the Clarkes’, he didn’t think she was at risk in daylight in the middle of town, and, if everything had gone according to plan, she must _accidentally_ have met Peeta after her appointment at the clinic and he must have walked her home. Plus, she sounded alright.

His peace of mind restored, he resumed wrestling with the metal pieces.

“Haymitch?” she called, her voice coming closer. She popped her head in the nursery, a smile on her face, and it was his turn to jump upright and to – _carefully_ but _firmly_ – push her outside the room.

“Paint fumes!” he rebuked only to frown when he realized she was carrying a huge box. He immediately relieved her from it. “You can’t carry heavy stuff!”

She pursed her lips and shot him a very irritated look. “It is not that heavy.”

“You’re almost six months pregnant.” he snapped. “You shouldn’t be carrying _anything_.”

She blinked, took a _deep_ breath and sighed. “My feet are swollen, my legs hurt, and Doctor Larcher just forbade me from drinking more than one cup of tea a day. I am too exhausted to argue with you.”

She turned on her heels and headed back downstairs, leaving him to follow with the huge box.

“Why’s that?” he worried. “Everything’s okay?”

“Yes, he is just concerned about anemia given that my eating habits are not exactly up to spar.” she confessed. “We should also eat more fish if we can find it.” He made a face behind her back, because fish wasn’t exactly his favorite dish, but whatever she needed he would not only get but submit to. She went on, oblivious. “Other than that, he says everything is more than fine. He is very happy with us.” They were almost near the living-room when she suddenly spun around and grabbed his arm, taking him by surprise and almost making him drop the box. “Oh, I saw baby Fanny! She is _so_ adorable, Haymitch, so _adorable_ … Such tiny fingers and toes… I want one.”

“One what?” he grumbled, adjusting his grip on the box. He _hoped_ she didn’t mean a girl because he wasn’t sure he could handle the whole pregnancy thing a second time. At least not for a _very_ long time.

“A _baby_ , of course!” she exclaimed.

He rolled his eyes at her antics but couldn’t help a smirk. She had been in good spirits lately and it was nice to see.

“Good thing we’re having one then, yeah?” he mocked, setting the box on the coffee table. “What’s this, then?”

Snowball was barking in the kitchen and Haymitch shouted at him to knock it off but to no avail. The puppy kept barking and barking…

“He wants to go out.” Effie pointed out, glancing at the clock. “We are nearing his usual walking time.”

Only her would have that clocked to the minute, he thought.

“I’ll go in a second.” he grumbled, guiding her to the couch and forcing her to sit down. “What’s in the box?”

“I do not know.” she grinned, leaning in to tug the package closer, a bit handicapped by her stomach. “Peeta – who, by the way, I happened to run in just outside the clinic, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? – needed to swing by the post office and they had this for me. It’s from Mother.”

“Oh, boy.” he winced. “I’m out of here.”

It was probably dresses or wigs or whatever Elindra thought her daughter needed.

“Sit down.” she ordered, outstretching her hand, palm up. “Knife, please. In a minute, Snowball!”

The puppy appeared on the threshold, still barking, and Haymitch handed her his old hunting knife without a second thought. “ _Down_ , Snowball.”

The dog whined but lied down, looking troubled. Haymitch gave him a frown but soon turned his attention back to Effie who had managed to open the box.

“Oh, how nice!” she beamed.

The box was packed to the brink with stuff. They found several white plastic _thingies_ that Effie identified as necessary items to baby proof the house – apparently they were for electric sockets and such and she hadn’t been able to find any in Twelve. There were several catalogues, furniture as well as baby clothes. She picked up a plushy looking sunny yellow blanket that she gushed over for at least two minutes because it would go _perfectly_ with the nursery’s colors – and Haymitch had to admit the blanket was soft and warm and it would look nice in that room. Next was a brown teddy bear. And, at last, she took out a blue romper with a train traced in red glitter on the front and he fished out two small bootees from the box.

They were _so_ small… 

“It is the first pieces of clothing he owns.” she whispered with a soft smile, placing a hand on her stomach. “Mother will be pleased to know she bought him his first outfit.”

He could have done without the glitter but it could have been worse. Clearly, Elindra was still determined to make an effort if she kept her Capitol tendencies in check.

He covered the hand on her stomach, looking for the now regular kicking. She complained he kept hitting her bladder and she needed to use the bathroom every fifteen minutes. Their son was very active and they were both happy about it because it meant he was healthy.

He pressed a kiss on the side of her neck, just because he could. And, since he could never stop at that, he dropped more kisses up the line of her jaw. She giggled and angled her head to give him access, dropping the romper back into the box and pushing it away. His hand brushed against her breast but he didn’t squeeze and he didn’t try to sneak it inside her bra – her chest had been painful again lately – he let it trail downward instead, running over her stomach and then on her thigh. The fabric of her dress wasn’t hard to push up but the stripped woolen tights she wore underneath proved to be a challenge…

“I do not think we can do that on the couch anymore.” she teased.

“Wanna bet?” he chuckled against her skin. “We just have to be creative.”

“I am a small whale.” she countered. “You will have to be _more_ than creative.”

“Guess it’s good for you I like challenges.” he snorted, dropping to his knees in front of her.

“Haymitch…” she hissed when he tugged on her tights.

It took some maneuvering that would once have been sexy but that was now, out of necessity, more careful and practical. She worried about that, he knew, about him not finding her hot anymore because she couldn’t put up shows like she used to. He couldn’t care less. She was hot to him, whatever the shape.

“Lean back.” he instructed because he couldn’t work with her pregnant stomach hitting him in the face – and he would rather not think about her pregnant stomach because when he thought that their kid was in there while he was doing _that_ , it peeved him out a little. He waited until she was lying down on the couch before dropping kisses on the inside of her thighs, rubbing his stubble on the delicate skin just like she liked it, letting her desire rise…

They had been together for so long that they knew each other’s body intimately. She could play him like a violin but turnabout was fair – so could he. He knew when to lick and when to suck, when to use his fingers and when to leave her hanging…

He made her beg twice before he granted her her release. He watched her ride it out on his fingers, smug and pleased by how readily she still responded to him. Her eyes were closed and she was panting hard when he took his hand away, licking his fingers clean without thinking twice about it before burrowing between her body and the back of the couch. It was a tight fit but it allowed him to hold her and that was all he wanted.

Her eyelids opened and he couldn’t help but lick his lips at the dark lusty shade her blue eyes had taken. She looked thoroughly debauched with her woolen tights down to her ankles and her dress bundled around her big stomach.

He was hard and he knew she could feel it poking her in the side. He didn’t protest when she sneaked her hand between their bodies and popped the button of his pants open. He didn’t protest either when her fingers crept inside his underwear. Her hand wasn’t his favorite way for her to get him off but it worked well enough anyway.

She kept her strokes slow, almost lazy, squeezing just enough to get him hot and bothered. She was _torturing_ him on purpose.

“You’re cruel.” he mumbled in her shoulder as she steadily rubbed him toward a release he was now desperate for. When he truly couldn’t take it anymore, she sped up the pace. He came in his pants like a teenager and he didn’t even care.

It made her chuckle. 

“You _do_ realize we won’t be able to do that in every room when the baby is here?” she hummed, nuzzling his cheek with her cold nose.

“He’ll stay a baby for a bit.” he grumbled. “Pretty sure he won’t know the difference.”

However she had a point. Once their son would be bigger… He imagined having a toddler around and found he didn’t quite know what to expect. Aside for Hazelle and Annie, none of his close friends had kids. He hadn’t seen Hazelle in years – since Gale had packed up and left for Two – and he had no idea how life was on a day to day basis for Annie.

He wanted to learn though.

He wasn’t sure he would be a great father but he _wanted_ to try. His own dad hadn’t exactly been father of the year material and if he was sure of one thing it was that he would do everything differently. He intended to be there every step of the way.  He didn’t want to miss _anything_.

They shifted without really discussing it because their position on the couch was precarious. He lied down on his back, his back propped on the armrest, and she lied down between his legs. It allowed him to wrap his arms around her stomach. He liked the idea of hugging them both.

“I am terrified out of my mind still.” she confessed. “But I am really impatient to hold him.”

“Don’t be too impatient.” he chided her, pressing a kiss on her head to soften his words. “The shrimp still needs to cook yet.”

With every new week she was breathing a little more easily though, he could tell. One more month and they would be entering the third trimester and, soon, the baby would be viable even if he was born early. Nobody _wished_ that, naturally, but he knew she was still worried about losing him and the knowledge that it was less likely to happen now – and that if it _did_ happen, the kid would at least have a fighting chance – was a comfort.

“Will you rub my feet tonight?” she hummed, almost pleading.

Her ankles were starting to swell. She was heavier than she used to be and walking around with the thick coat of snow was more difficult for her than for anyone else. She only went out when she couldn’t help it.

“If you’re nice to me.” he teased.

“Wasn’t I _just_ nice to you?” she purred. “Should I be _nicer_?”

The prospect of her being _nicer_ wasn’t one he would have dismissed easily. His mouth found hers despite the awkward angle and for the following minutes, the only sounds were their kissing and the logs popping in the fireplace. It was peaceful and _perfect_ and he was lost in the moment. The living-room was like a bubble. A safe warm bubble in which nothing existed but the other and the puppy who was aimlessly roaming the house.  

“I love you.”

He was barely aware of the words that passed his lips between two kisses.

She tensed and he tensed in answer.

For a second, they stared at each other and he wasn’t sure who was the more lost. Then, she relaxed and the smile on her lips… It was so _tender_ and _loving_ that he couldn’t _breathe_.

“I love you more.” she declared.

He had been ready to bolt but her words were so ridiculous that he scoffed and relaxed. “Everything has to be a competition with you.”

He let her coax him back into kissing and, for a while, they did nothing but that. He was dimly aware Snowball was growling in the kitchen but he figured the puppy really wanted to go out. The dog became cranky if they didn’t allow him to run for an hour or two in the evening.

He would take him out to the meadow in a minute, he promised himself – _after_ a quick trip upstairs to shower and change – as Effie settled her head back on his shoulder, her nails pleasantly scratching his forearms.

“Have you thought about names yet?” she hummed, derailing his train of thoughts.

He realized he had been drifting off only because he suddenly opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.

“You’ve been.” he snorted. The books about names and their meanings had been piling up on her nightstand with her notepad on top. “Let’s hear it.”

“You will hate half of them.” she warned.

“Probably.” he shrugged.

“Adalberto.” She rushed the syllables out as if it would sound shorter that way. “It means noble and bright.”

“Too long.” he commented. “Too ugly.”

“Cleto.” she suggested next. “It is short for Anacletus but we can forego that if you would rather go with the shortest version. It means invoked.”

“Big fat no.” he answered.

“Eustorgio.” she replied. “It means to love, to be content.”

“ _Euphemia_ …” he taunted. “Do you _hate_ our child?”

She whacked his arm with a pout. “Lio?”

He considered it for a few seconds. “Not the worst but…”

“You don’t like it.” she sighed. “Well… Do _you_ have ideas?”

He hesitated. He _had_ thought about it but his choices were more District oriented. “Fergus?”

She was silent for the longest time and then she scoffed. “You are not serious.”

“What’s wrong with Fergus?” he asked. “It’s a good name. Means man of vigor, I’ll have you know. There’s worse. Like _Cleto_.”

“Haymitch, only men who are _a hundred_ are called Fergus.” she retorted.

“Men who are a hundred were babies once.” he countered defensively. And there were worse things than living old, he bit back. She should know better.

She rolled her eyes. “We are _not_ calling our baby Fergus. What else do you have?”

“Kyran.” he mumbled. “Or Kieran.”

She didn’t dismiss it at once like he was afraid of.

“It is a strong name.” she hummed. “I will add it to the list of maybes.”

“’Cause we have a list of maybes?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“We do.” she informed him. “Do you have another one?”

“Not really.” he shrugged. “We could go with Theo, you know. You wanted to name him after your grandfather…”

“I told you, Lyssa…” she argued.

“Yeah, but she used the full name, right?” he cut her off. “We can use the short one.”

She hesitated and then sighed. “We don’t have to decide today.”

“Or we can just call him Shrimp.” he snorted.

She strained her neck to glare at him but before she could open her mouth, Snowball started barking again and she let out a deep sigh. “Please, take him out. He is driving me _crazy_.”

“Yeah.” he caved in easily with a peck on her mouth.

He disappeared upstairs while she went to call her mother. She was still on the phone when he came back down, showered and wearing clean underwear. He crouched to fasten the sparkly blue collar Effie insisted Snowball should wear outside – in case he got lost – and then opened the back door. Instead of rushing out like he expected him to, the puppy ran to Effie and jumped around her as if he wanted her attention. 

Haymitch had to whistle three times before Snowball finally consented to come to him and he struggled to get him out of the backyard. The geese were honking wildly too, probably alarmed by the racket.

The trip to the meadow wasn’t a happy one. The coat of snow was impractical and the puppy kept stopping dead in his tracks to run back in the direction of the Village until Haymitch whistled him back. Snowball’s behavior was odd and he was starting to get a jittery feeling of impending doom.

At the puppy’s fifth attempt to flee, Haymitch caved.

It was stupid maybe but he almost ran all the way back. The dog’s antics, the geese honking… The closer he got, the more anxious he was. How long had he been gone? Thirty … Thirty-five minutes?

Rationally he knew he was likely to come home to Effie huddled on the couch under a blanket with her sketching pad on her knees or the TV on. He knew she would probably tease him about his hovering over her like a mother hen, she would mock him for being overprotective… He knew chances were everything would be fine because the kids were only on the other side of the street and there were neighbors now and…

The geese were still honking and Snowball aggressively started scratching the front door as soon as he reached it, growling and barking in turn.

Haymitch broke out into a full run and almost knocked the door off its hinges in his hurry to get inside.

One step was all it took for him to know Effie wouldn’t be on the couch and there would be no teasing.

There was an odd atmosphere in the house.

He faltered.

Snowball didn’t.

The puppy rushed into the living-room and barked in earnest. There was no growling now though only whimpers and whines.

Haymitch followed because he didn’t feel he had a choice.

And all he could see was the blood.


	16. Twenty Two Weeks (2)

Effie watched Snowball growling at her feet while she waited for the butler to bring the phone to her mother. She could hear Haymitch moving upstairs and she hoped, for the puppy’s sake, that his shower would be brief. The dog looked unsettled.

She dragged a chair away from the kitchen table with a small frown so she could sit and pat his head without having to crouch or wriggle in ways that her stomach would have made difficult.

“What _is_ the matter with you, my pretty baby?” she cooed. “You are one very unhappy puppy tonight…” She scratched him behind the ears and down the side like he usually liked but instead of rolling on his back, he stubbornly remained lying on top of her feet. “Are you sick?” she hummed. “You better _not_ be sick, I warn you. I will be _very_ sad if you are sick.”

_“Euphemia?”_ her mother asked in her ear, clearly taken aback. _“Who is sick? Is it your… victor?”_

Elindra still couldn’t help but pause before referring to Haymitch. Effie swallowed back a sigh though. Credit had to be given where credit was due and her mother had been _very good_ at keeping her opinion about Effie’s choices to herself lately. Since the trip to Four, she even seemed to have definitely reconsidered her stance on Haymitch being a disgrace to the family. He _could_ be quite charming when he wanted to be and it seemed he had managed to put a spell on her parents during that dinner.

“No, no. We are fine.” she hurried in reassuring her. “It is simply our…” She stopped and winced because for the numerous calls they now exchanged every week, she had yet to explain the new addition to their household. “Mother, I did not tell you, did I? We have a puppy now.”

There was a very long pause at the other end of the line and then Elindra repeated in a detached, casual tone. _“A puppy_.”

“Yes.” she grinned and she didn’t have to fake the cheer in her voice.

She had grown very attached to Snowball in the short amount of time he had been there. She tangled her fingers in his fur, combing the long hair free of the numerous knots. She needed to brush him again. Haymitch wouldn’t do it. He said she was ridiculous and soon she would have him perfumed and groomed like a Capitol dog. Since Haymitch was good about taking him for walks, cleaning up his mess and training him, she didn’t mind the grooming duties. Snowball was a darling anyway. He loved it when she brushed his fur or gave him baths.

“ _You never said you wanted a dog before.”_ Elindra was obviously wincing. _“I thought you preferred cats. They are much more refined pets.”_

“Snowball is a big cuddly toy, Mother.” she chuckled. As if he knew she was talking about him, the puppy lifted his head and looked at her with his shiny dark eyes. “You cannot look at him and not fall in love.”

_“If you say so.”_ her mother sighed. _“I cannot say dogs are in fashion, right now. Well… Perhaps the small ones. As accessories.”_

“Actually, I called to thank you for your package.” she said, sensing a change in topic was in order. The boiler suddenly stopped making noises and she figured Haymitch was done with his shower. She automatically patted the dog’s head, silently mouthing at him to be patient a little while longer. The puppy placed his head on her knees, staring at her. “It was really thoughtful of you and I _love_ everything. Did you know we have not bought any baby clothes yet? You bought him his first outfit.”

_“My little Eustorgio deserves only the best._ ” her mother declared in a very pleased tone. Elindra did like to be first in everything.

“Eustorgio was vetoed.” she announced.

_“Pity_.” Elindra commented _“Tell me, how are you? Are his kicks still strong? How is the nursery coming along?”_

By the time she was done with the small talk, Haymitch was back downstairs, bundled in his coat and scarf and Snowball was making such a racket she could barely hear her mother.

_“Are you certain you needed a puppy?”_ Elindra sighed as Haymitch tried to convince the dog to go outside. _“It seems_ awfully _untrained.”_

“He does not usually behave like this.” she frowned, as Haymitch struggle to drag him out to the backyard. It seemed the geese were at it too and her frown deepened even further. She waved when Haymitch closed the back door with a long suffering glance.

She tried not to read into the puppy’s strange behavior and the geese’s honking but she was suddenly acutely aware of being alone in the house. She was having one of those strange moments when a place that was otherwise safe and comforting now felt treacherous and suffocating.

Her breathing quickened as adrenaline flooded in her veins, her senses were hyper…

She knew she would have a flashback or a panic attack if she went on in that fashion. She also knew it wasn’t good for the baby so she focused on keeping her breathing even.

_“I hope you did not yet buy a stroller, Effie, because I found the_ most _perfect thing.”_ Elindra told her, oblivious to her sudden distress. “ _It is a pram that can double as a stroller later on._ And _to topple it all, it has dirt-track driving wheels so it should be_ very _practical in your District. I ordered it. It should be delivered sometimes in the next two weeks. An insufferable delay for a delivery but that is what you get for living so far from the Capitol.”_

“You should not have.” she remarked, subdued.

_She was safe and this was ridiculous_ , she repeated to herself.

_“Are you displeased?”_ Elindra asked, a bit on the cold side. _“I just wished to help. I could cancel…”_

“No, I am not displeased, I meant you already did a lot for us.” she replied. “You do not need to keep sending gifts.”

_“You need a pram and a stroller and you need something that will work on unpaved streets.”_ Elindra pointed out.

“Yes, but…” she tried to argue.

_“Simply say thank you, Euphemia.”_ her mother sighed. _“I have every right to spoil my grandson, do I not?”_

She figured Haymitch would have a different view on that but Effie knew it was pointless to argue. Elindra would simply take offense and she was enjoying being on good terms with her mother for once – for the first time in forever, probably.

“Thank you, Mother.” she answered. “I _mean_ it.”

_“Well…”_ Elindra huffed, maybe a bit embarrassed by how genuine Effie sounded. _“You are very welcome. I do wish… I do wish to…”_

She _did_ wish to make things right between them, Effie understood that. “I know.”

“ _Good, good.”_ her mother breathed out. _“I am terribly sorry, darling, but I must dash now. Your father is taking me to a fundraiser tonight and I am simply nowhere near ready yet.”_

They said their goodbyes and Effie was left alone in the silent house. She had never had any problem being left alone in their house before. She _loved_ their house.

Still, she had learned to listen to her instinct long ago so she headed straight to the living-room to grab the scarf she had left there with a half-cooked plan to go to the children’s until Haymitch came home. It was almost time for dinner anyway and it was the children’s turn to host it – not that _she_ was ever responsible for the food, that was mainly Peeta and Haymitch’s territory; Katniss hunted it, _she_ purchased whatever wasn’t in the forest for the girl to pick up and the boys cooked it, she _deeply_ loved that system.

Her hand was closing on the scarf tossed over the armrest of the chair closest to the fireplace when she felt it.

The prickling at the back of her nape.

She _knew_ she wasn’t alone.

She whirled around, half expecting to have gone crazy, half praying that she _would_ be alone and it was simply her imagination playing tricks on her. She dropped the scarf, her hands flying to her stomach in a meager form of protection.

She recognized the man instantly.

It was the one from the grocery shop, the one she had seen several times around town and the reason why she didn’t mind Haymitch’s overprotective tendencies so much. _Clay_ , she recalled, his name was Clay.

She remembered his daughter also. Leyla had been thirteen and not one of their cutest tributes. Effie had known she had no chance from day one. The child had been nice though, well-mannered, _polite_ , with a keen eye for fashion… She had _loved_ the dresses and the…   

“What are you doing here, Clay?” she asked, keeping her voice poised and calm. It wouldn’t do to lose her mind. It wouldn’t do to give him any reason to get angry.

The man _hated_ her, it was written all over his face.

And why shouldn’t he? She had reaped his daughter.

How long had he been lurking around? It explained the geese honking and Snowball’s strange behavior. _Brave faithful Snowball…_

“Saw you in town today.” Clay snarled, waving his right arm around. She took a step back when she realized he was holding a knife. “You’ve got _no_ shame, right? Parading around with that stomach when our kids are dead?”

His eyes were shifty. He was drunk or he had snapped. Possibly both.

“I am sorry.” she sincerely offered. “I know it does not make it alright and I know it won’t help you grieve but I _am_ deeply…”

“You shut your mouth, you stupid _whore_.” he hissed, taking a threatening step forward. Effie took two back, her eyes darting around, searching for a weapon, searching for _something._ They fell on the open box on the coffee table and the knife she had never handed back to Haymitch. Clay was still ranting, slowly inching closer… She took her chance and circled around the armchair, trying to keep some distance between them. “My Leyla’s _dead_. Her mom… She _killed_ herself. I’ve lost _everything_ and _you_ …” He shook his head. “ _You_ should be dead too. _You_ don’t _get_ to have any of this. _You_ don’t get to have a family. _You_ _don’t_ _get anything!_ ”

Her thoughts had been running around in all directions as she slowly but surely gave in to panic however they came to a screeching halt when she realized what would likely happen. He wasn’t just there to _hurt_ her. He wanted her _dead_.

Her first thought was for the baby in her belly, the baby that would _die_ with her.

The second went to Haymitch and what he would feel if he came back home to her dead corpse. It would _destroy_ him. He wouldn’t be able to go through that a second time. He would lose it. He would start drinking again if he didn’t do something even more stupid.

It wasn’t just about her… Yes, losing her would probably be a hard blow, but the child? He _wanted_ the child so much… He was excited about it. He had accepted the fact he would be their boy’s father and he was looking forward to it. The lost child would be the icing on a cake of horrors.

She couldn’t bear the thought of Haymitch going through any of that.

“You _cannot_ hurt my family.” she whispered, tightening her hold on her pregnant stomach.

_Her family_.

She had gone against the Capitol for her family once. She had bought golden tokens and had taken a stance. She had borne months of torture and isolation. She had begged for her guards to hurt _her_ instead of Peeta and Johanna. She had done things she never thought she could do.

She had _survived_.

For _Haymitch_.

For the _children_.   

“You _won’t_ hurt my family.” she repeated, stronger.

“You don’t get to have a family.” Clay spat. “Mine’s _dead_. Because of _you_.”

“You do not understand.” she retorted calmly, fear suddenly deserting her as she lunged for the knife on the coffee table. Her fingers closed around the smooth handle. It was heavy and unfamiliar in her hand but it was Haymitch’s and it had protected him in the arena so, in some twisted way, it was comforting. “I won’t _let_ you.”

Clay stared at her for a while and then burst out laughing like it was the best joke he had ever heard.

Perhaps it was. She was standing there, almost six months pregnant, one arm wrapped around her stomach, a knife she didn’t know how to wield properly in her free hand…

She could feel her baby moving though and it was all the incentive she needed.

She would protect her baby with everything she had.

She wouldn’t die, _couldn’t_ die, because that would mean losing their child.

“I will kill you.” she warned, her voice breaking a little. “Please, do _not_ make me kill you.”

Clay was still laughing. “I think you’ve got yourself confused with our traitor victor…”

Nobody should ever underestimate a mother, she thought. The length she would go for her children – _all_ of her children… She realized just how far at that moment. She had suffered before and she was prepared to suffer again. But _kill,_ now… Killing was a new thought, a new _urge_ , one Haymitch had claimed feeling in the past and she had never really shared.

They had different views about what protecting someone meant. She shielded when he preemptively attacked. She didn’t like violence. She never understood why he always had to make a show of strength.

She did now. 

“He is not a traitor.” she snapped. “Without him President Snow would still be alive.”

 “ _Bullshit_.” he sneered “I’ll get to him too, you know… But you first. I want him to see you _dead_.”

“Haymitch did _nothing_ to you.” she hissed.

“He should have brought her back!” Clay shouted. “He saved those kids, why not my girl? She never hurt anyone, my Leyla…”

“She was a darling.” Effie agreed softly. “She would _not_ want this. Please, Clay…”

“Don’t you talk about my girl!” he growled.

He pounced on her.

His knife slashed the air and she barely had time to duck out of the way to avoid getting stabbed. She felt the burning bite on her shoulder and arm, she felt the blood dampening her woolen sleeve… It didn’t quite register.  

He came at her again and she did the only thing she could think of, she barreled into him with a pitiful war cry, hoping against all odds it would carry to the children’s house and they would come running to her help. He dropped his knife in her surprise attack and she readied hers to strike without giving him time to react, beyond any clear thoughts now.

He grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Haymitch’s hunting knife fell to the floor but she wouldn’t give up. She scratched at his face with her nails. They struggled with each other for a moment until she tripped over the open box…

She went down, crashing on the coffee table that broke under her weight, cushioning her fall a little… She didn’t have time to register any of it. Not the shock and not the pain.

Clay was straddling her hips, his hands wrapped around her throat… _So_ _tight_ …

She _couldn’t_ breathe.

She felt around for the knife.

There was only room for one thing in her mind.

_She needed to protect her baby_.


	17. Twenty Two Weeks (3)

Dead blue eyes were staring at him.

Haymitch froze on the threshold, his heart pounding hard against his ribcage, overwhelmed by the blood soaking the rug and the corpse lying on their broken coffee table.

His gaze followed the bloody prints Snowball had left and soon spotted the whining puppy, pushing Effie’s arm with his nose, regularly placing a paw on her body to get her attention. She was curled up on the floor, her back to the couch, her legs hugged as tight as her stomach would allow, her woolen dress covered with blood…

He hurried to her, dropping on his knees in front of her because his legs wouldn’t carry him further. She was heaving. Her chest rose and fell fast and hard, her eyes were open but unseeing. He reached out and she flinched so badly when he placed his hand on her shoulder…

“Effie.” he heard himself say and it sounded strong and calm. He didn’t know how he managed to sound like that when all he wanted to do was collapse and have a panic attack of his own. “Where are you hurt?”

He probed her body, taking note of the flinches but not minding them so much, trying to find where the blood was coming from. There was too much blood. _Too much_ blood.

It was all over her chest, all over her arms and neck… There were speckles of it on her face and…

At no point did he bother checking Clay’s pulse.

The handle of a knife – _his_ knife – jutting out of his neck was a pretty good clue that the man was dead.

She must have caught the carotid.

And, _thank god_ , for small mercies…

“ _Effie_.” he insisted when she didn’t answer. There was a gash on her shoulder than ran down her arm but it wasn’t too deep and he couldn’t find any other open wound. The blood most likely wasn’t hers. He didn’t dare relax though.

She was humming to herself now, rocking a little back and forth…

Her mind wasn’t there. He didn’t know if it was injury related or if she was having a flashback. He _didn’t know_. But he _needed_ to.

He framed her face in his hands, pushing her hair back, forcing her to focus on him. 

“Effie.” he snapped. “Answer me or I swear…”

She coiled her hands around his wrists in an automatic frightened response, her eyes widening.

“It’s me.” he said quickly. “It’s _me_. You’re safe, sweetheart. I swear I’ll keep you _safe_. You need to talk to me. Sweetheart… _Please_ , talk to me.” She blinked and blinked again. It was a slow process but her gaze became less and less glassy, until he was sure he had her attention. He brushed his thumb on her cheekbone when she tried to look in the direction of the coffee table and the dead man on top of it, preventing her from seeing too much. “Are you alright?”

“I killed him.” she whispered.

“It’s okay.” he immediately answered, a small growl in his voice. She should never have been in that position. He should have been there. He should have… “You didn’t mean to.”  

“Yes, I did.” she countered flatly. “I had to protect the baby.”

Her assurance that she had killed someone on purpose threw him a little but he didn’t let himself falter. She needed him right now. He could freak out later.

“Yeah.” he nodded. “And you did _good_ on that. Your arm’s hurt. I’m gonna call an ambulance, alright?”

_And Peacekeepers_ but he didn’t voice that thought out loud. Her grasp on reality was tenuous at best right now. She was still peeved by the white uniforms even if Paylor had long reformed the police movement, she ducked her head every time they met a patrol in the street.

“Haymitch?” she murmured.

He licked his lips, fighting to remain composed but it came out a bit choked. “Yeah?”

Her blue eyes met his. “I think I am in labor.”

“ _What?_ ” he panicked. “Effie, it’s too early. You can’t…”

“I am having contractions.” she replied, detached.

He hesitated for about two seconds and then bolted to the kitchen. He placed three phone calls in the record time of five minutes. The clinic first, the Peacekeepers station next and then the kids.

He had barely crouched back next to Effie when the kids barged in. They froze on the doorstep and then rushed to their side.

Nobody talked.

He wanted to promise Effie it would be okay, that they would get through this… Every time she winced when a contraction hit, he could only think about the unfinished nursery upstairs. He didn’t bother timing them. They were close together and it couldn’t be good.

Katniss held his hand.

Peeta held Effie’s.

He climbed in the ambulance with her, leaving the kids to deal with the Peacekeepers and the puppy that was whining like crazy, obviously scared. It growled when they carried Effie away on a gurney.

By the time they reached the hospital, Haymitch was in a daze. His heart was hammering hard in his chest, clenching every two minutes, he felt dizzy and nauseous.

Larcher met them at the door as the gurney was rushed through the corridors to an examination room full of nurses… Haymitch told them what he knew – and realized belatedly that, aside for the fact she had been attacked and had killed her attacker, it wasn’t much.

They bustled around her for a while and he hovered close by until a nurse pushed him outside.

He wanted to fight her, to stay next to Effie because he could tell being in a hospital wasn’t doing her any good. She was slipping away in her memories again, her eyes were unfocused and she didn’t answer any question.

He let the woman lead him to a plastic chair in the corridor instead of making a fuss.

He was breathing hard and fast and she frowned at him, taking a lamp out of her pocket to flash it in his eyes.

“Are you having chest pain?” she asked.

And now that she mentioned it…

He nodded meekly, his head spinning…

His mind kept flashing to the blood and the knife jutting out of the guy’s neck…

_It could have been her…_

“Sir.” the nurse called but her voice came from afar, as if he was underwater. “Do you have a heart condition?”

Effie could have been _dead_.

They might be losing the baby.

And it was all _his_ fault.

It was all because…

_And he couldn’t breathe…_

He was dimly aware the only reason he was still sitting upright was the hand that was firmly gripping his shoulder.

“I need help here!” 

He blacked out.

When he came to, he was lying on a bed, there was an irritating beeping sound next to him and Katniss was looming over him with a scowl.

“We thought you had a heart attack.” she grumbled.

He figured it was good to know it hadn’t been one.

“Effie?” he asked at once, a bit drowsy still.

“Peeta’s with her.” she told him, reaching out to steady him when he tried to sit up. “Take it easy. You had a bad panic attack.”

On another day and with someone else, he might have been embarrassed. He didn’t waste any time tearing off captors and needles. Whatever product had been in that drip, it must have been mild because he didn’t really feel drugged.

“How long was I out?” he asked, swinging his legs off the bed. He was wearing one of those ridiculous hospital paper gowns. “Get me my clothes.”

Katniss pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment and then rolled her eyes, probably accepting there was no way he would keep on lying there when Effie was in another room, scared out of her wits. She grabbed a plastic bag from under the bed and tossed it at him.

“Half an hour.” she informed him. “They tested your heart or something… You’re fine. I’m not helping you get dressed.”

“Never asked you to.” he snapped. She turned around and he quickly put his clothes back on, not quite as steady on his feet as he would have liked. “How’s she?”

“They’re still running tests.” Katniss told him. “The wound on her arm wasn’t deep enough for stitches, so that’s good. She’s got bad bruises on her back. We think she’s the one who crashed on the coffee table. There’s also… It looks like he tried to strangle her, her throat’s black and blue.”

He briefly closed his eyes. “It’s my fault.”

The confession came out breathless and raw.

“Don’t be stupid.” she scoffed, turning around. “It’s not…”

“I told her I… I said _the words_.” he spat. “I told her…” He shook his head. “I say _that_ and people _die_. My family, my girl… Her now… It’s…”

“Haymitch.” Katniss cut him off, grabbing his arm. “It had _nothing_ to do with you. The guy was sick. He snapped. You heard him in the shop last time. It wasn’t about _you_.”

It had been a bit about him too. If he had been there to be attacked _first_ …

He shook his head again and gently but firmly shrugged her hand off. “I need to see her.”

“Yeah.” Katniss agreed. “She’s just down the hall. There are Peacekeepers here too. It’s pretty obvious what happened and I don’t think we’ll get in any trouble, but they need to hear the story from her.”

“I want to see her first.” he stated.

She nodded. “They’re willing to wait until we’re sure she’s okay. They’re not… They’re not _bad_.”

Katniss didn’t have the best track record with Peacekeepers either. None of them did.

He trusted her judgment.

“Okay.” He rubbed his face with both hands, wishing he had his flask right about now. There was a question he hadn’t yet asked and that he needed answered before he saw Effie. “The baby. Is he gone?”

He didn’t shrug her hand off when she grabbed his arm this time.

“I don’t know.” she confessed. “I stayed with you.”

He felt himself nod and then he stepped out in the corridor, bracing himself for the worst.

Her room was much quieter than before. There was no army of nurses running around… Effie was lying on a bed in a paper gown of her own, looking pale in the all-encompassing white of the sheets and walls. Peeta was sitting right next to her, holding her hand. As for Larcher, who was standing at the foot of the bed, he glanced up from the chart he was perusing when they came in.

“You shouldn’t be up.” the doctor sighed, sounding resigned to letting him have his way.

“Haymitch!” Effie breathed out, eyes full of tears, letting go of the boy’s hand to outstretch her arm toward him. “They wouldn’t tell me where you were… They wouldn’t… I thought you… I was scared you…”

He grabbed her hand and took Peeta’s place. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t completely there yet, he could tell. She kept blinking, her blue eyes darted everywhere in fright and mistrust… “You’re safe, sweetheart.” he promised. “I’m right here.”

How many times had he offered those precise words in her hospital room after her rescue?

She relaxed a little and he turned his attention to Larcher, absentmindedly rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

“The baby is fine.” the doctor said in anticipation of his question.

“She had contractions.” Katniss frowned, standing right behind him, almost guarding his back.

“Braxton X.” Larcher countered, as if it explained everything. At their puzzled faces, he allowed himself a small smile. “Most women don’t feel them but given the amount of stress Effie went through… Never mind the shock to her back…” He shook his head, turning serious once more. “It’s better than the alternative. Early labor… It would have been _bad_. We need to take this seriously though. The contractions stopped on their own, which is better than I expected to be honest. I want her on bed rest for at least a week, maybe two.”

“She’s not going to like that.” Haymitch sighed.

Effie didn’t really react. He suspected she wasn’t quite following the conversation.

“We are going to keep her in the hospital tonight to monitor her.” the doctor continued, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the side of the chart. “I don’t want you to worry, Haymitch. I would rather be extra careful than sorry later on. Now…” Larcher hesitated. “Usually, I would keep her in the clinic for a few more days but…”

“It’s going to stress her out.” he finished for the man.

“Exactly.” the doctor agreed. “I don’t think she’s been completely lucid since we brought her in and it’s not entirely due to shock.”

“It’s the place.” he insisted. “Told you before. Hospitals are no good for her.”

Larcher nodded. “That’s why I’m going to release her in the morning _if_ there isn’t any more surprise contractions. You’ll have to make sure she stays in bed and… Given what happened tonight it won’t be easy and I would strongly recommend calling in a therapist, but you have to try to get her to _relax_. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

He kept on talking while he filled a prescription for salves – one for the bruises and one for the wound – explaining how to care for her injuries and promising to call at the house once in the morning and once in the evening for as long as necessary…

Haymitch’s head was spinning with information by the time the doctor finally left. All he could focus on was the fact that their baby was fine, that _she_ was fine, and that they would – _probably_ – get through this. They had come back from worse in any case.

The kids sat with them for half an hour, keeping up a superficial chatter that helped ground Effie a little more in the present. She still looked confused but she wasn’t completely delirious anymore. He waited until he was sure she was entirely aware of her surroundings before suggesting she talked to the Peacekeepers while it was still fresh.

He was almost expecting her to try to bolt – enough triggers had been pulled that night that she would have been more than entitled to a breakdown – but she simply nodded, calm and composed. The only telltale that she was scared was the strength with which she was clutching his hand.

As Katniss had promised, the Peacekeepers weren’t _bad_. The two men were careful not to upset her and did their best to put her at ease. It helped. She eyed the uniforms with mistrust but they were polite with her and, because of her upbringing, she couldn’t be any less than polite with them in return. She answered their questions, only faltering a little when they asked her to describe what had happened in her own words.

She spat her tale in a soulless hollow voice, sounding so detached it was Haymitch’s turn to clutch to her fingers like a lifeline. It made him furious. With the dead man. With himself.

The thought of her being that terrified… Of her being _hurt_ and forced to _fight for her life_ …

He barely noticed when the Peacekeepers took their leave or when one of the nurses told the children they would have to come back in the morning. He watched Peeta kiss Effie’s brow and whisper something in her ear as if in a daze, not quite registering when she softly smiled at the boy and told him – in a voice that, for the first time since he had come back from walking the dog, wasn’t wavering – that she would be fine and wasn’t going anywhere. Katniss was a little more abrupt in her demonstrations of affection but there wasn’t anything forced or faked in the way she bent down to hug Effie, muttering in their former escort’s neck that she better never scare her that way again. Peeta clapped him on the shoulder on his way out, Katniss simply flashed him an uncertain look.

He was staring at his and Effie’s entwined hands, not quite seeing them.

The thought of what could have happened… His imagination was running wild. He saw himself coming back home to her corpse. He saw himself stepping in a puddle of her blood. He saw himself dropping to his knees next to her dead body…

Further than that, he only drew a blank.

He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

It was too terrifying an idea to even conceive.


	18. Twenty Two Weeks (4)

They sneaked her out of the hospital at dawn.

Effie wasn’t quite sure what was going on because she wasn’t quite certain what was real and what was happening inside her head. Deep down, she knew she was in Twelve and safe. She knew she had a life with Haymitch, that they were expecting a child and that nobody wanted to arrest her. She _knew_. But she kept forgetting.

Being in the hospital… The smell of antiseptics, the hushed conversations between nurses in the corridor, the bright almost blinding white of the walls under the neon lights… Her mind kept going back there, right after they had dragged her out of her cell, when she could barely compute because her body had been in so much pain. She could almost physically _feel it_ again, that pain, like a phantom memory that wouldn’t go away.

One second, she knew where she was and what was happening.

The next, she was back in the Capitol’s hospital filled to the brink with wounded and dying people and they were rolling her on a gurney to who knew where – perhaps another cell or perhaps a firing squad.

“Effie, you’re safe. We’re in Twelve and I’m taking you home.”

She blinked and she was back again. She squeezed Haymitch’s hand to let him know she was alright, worried by the dark circles under his eyes and how ashen his skin looked. He seemed to have aged a decade in one night and she couldn’t help but feel guilty because that was her fault.

The hand that wasn’t clinging to his was distractedly rubbing her stomach.

“You’re in pain?” Haymitch frowned as the gurney rolled and rolled toward what she figured to be the backdoor exit – or it was where the firing squad was waiting for her because Coin wanted her _dead_ and… “Effie.”

She blinked and made a conscious effort to _focus_.

“He’s asleep.” she whispered. And she wished he would _move_ because it had been easier to remember where and when she was when she had felt him moving.

There was a car waiting for her at the back of the hospital. She didn’t know whose it was because very few people owned cars in the District. Haymitch mumbled something about having borrowed it from the Justice Building. He sat in the back with her and she leaned her head on his shoulder, longing for her bed.

She was so _exhausted_.

She must have drifted off because next thing she knew, Haymitch was gently shaking her shoulder. The Village was still asleep, the sky was pinkish… The familiar honking of the geese greeted her as he helped her inside their house.

She froze when she spotted the closed door of the living-room, her mind flashing to the previous night and…

“Is he still here?” she asked.

He seemed taken aback by that. His grey eyes darted to the door and the arm he had passed around her waist tightened. “The Peacekeepers took the body away last night, sweetheart.”

She stared at the wooden door for a very long time. Haymitch didn’t seem to dare urging her forward despite the fact she wasn’t supposed to be on her feet too long.

“I do not want to go back to this room ever again.” she declared with a sense of finality before hurrying up the stairs.

She could tell he didn’t know how to answer that.

She relaxed once she reached the first floor. _Upstairs_ was safe. _Upstairs_ was untainted by fear and memories she would rather ignore. _Upstairs_ was _good_.

The first thing she spotted in the bedroom was their bed and she made a beeline for it, sinking on the fluffy blanket that was held in reserve for freezing winter nights.

“You should get into pajamas, sweetheart…” he suggested. “More comfortable, yeah? Or… You want a bath?”

He looked desperate for something to do, for some way to help her… He was walking on eggshells and she wanted to tell him she was alright but she felt removed from the present, floating between reality and memories.

“A bath…” she repeated. She blinked slowly, fighting not to picture the blood she had been covered with. If she let herself think about it, she would _feel_ it again. _Warm and sticky_. On her throat. On her hands. On her face. She clenched her teeth. “A bath, yes.” As an afterthought, she added “Thank you.”

She didn’t close her eyes and she didn’t fall asleep but it seemed that barely a second had passed between the moment he offered to draw her a bath and the moment he sat down on the bed next to her to tell her it was ready. She was familiar with the sensation but it was still just as disorienting as she remembered. She was losing time, her mind was playing tricks on her.

Privately, she wondered if what had happened the previous night would be the last straw. If she was about to finally become crazy.

She almost asked Haymitch.

He looked so worried though… He was so careful when he helped her out of the clothes Peeta had brought to the hospital that morning… He made sure she got into the bathtub safely and then he kneeled next to it, reaching for the washcloth and not giving her a choice to accept his help or not. She let him do it, sensing it was something he needed to do. Maybe he was on the brink of madness too. Maybe…

She stayed in the bath until it turned cold and he remained kneeling next to her all the while. She was distantly aware the phone was ringing off the hook but she couldn’t quite care. The bathroom was a bubble of silence.

She couldn’t say how much time had passed when she finally asked him to help her out but she knew it must have been at least an hour or two.

He toweled her dry with some sort of desperate urgency. He avoided the gash on her shoulder and the various bruises. He looked both angry and distressed, fleeing her gaze. She cupped his cheek, her nails scrapping against his stubble. His grey eyes looked cloudy when they met hers, his hands were shaking.

“We are fine.” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and leaned in her caress. When he spoke, his voice was raw. “No, you’re not. And it’s my fault. Should have…”

He didn’t finish that thought but she didn’t need him to. _I should have been here_. That was what he wanted to say.

And a selfish part of her, the nasty part that had blamed him for her capture during the war, agreed with him.

It _wasn’t_ his fault though. She knew that. If it was anyone’s fault, it was _hers_. Clay had attacked her because of her past, because of who she was, because of…

“I love you.” she offered. Anything else she could have said, he would have dismissed. There was power in those words though. It was reassurance and absolution all rolled into one.

He flinched. His whole body flinched.

Next thing she knew she was held tight into his embrace, his nose was buried in her hair and he was shaking from head to toes.

“Can’t lose you.” he mumbled, a bit incoherent. “ _Can’t_.”

“You won’t.” she promised even though she had no real means of knowing that. “You didn’t.” She ran her nails up and down his spine, hoping to soothe him. It took a long time before he stopped shaking. She pressed a kiss against his neck. “I need to lie down, Haymitch.” she reminded him as gently as she could.

He stepped back, guilt immediately flashing on his face. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“Give me one of your shirts.” she requested once he had guided her back to the bedroom and she saw him rummaging in the drawers where she kept her pajamas. He complied without a word, passing her the navy blue long-sleeve shirt she often used to steal from him before she became too big for that. The fabric stretched around her middle and the sweatpants he tossed at her with the ghost of a mocking smirk didn’t really fit but it smelled like him and that was what she wanted, even if her pregnant belly was poking out. She slipped into bed with relief. And then she frowned. “Where is my baby?”

Concern and fear flashed on his face. He sat down next to her on the bed, grasping her shoulder over the cover and immediately taking his hand away when she winced. The wound wasn’t that deep and it didn’t really hurt when left alone but she didn’t think grabbing it would be alright for a few days.

“Sorry.” he muttered, looking so guilty she covered his hand with hers and brought it to face. He implicitly understood what she wanted and combed his fingers through her hair. “Sweetheart… The baby… The baby’s not born yet. You know that.”

She frowned because she didn’t understand what he meant.

“Yes.” she confirmed. She wasn’t _that_ crazy. Yet.

He looked uncertain. “You just asked for your baby.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidity.

“My puppy.” she clarified. “I want my puppy.”

“Oh.” He made a face. “He’s at the kids’. I’m not sure… You’re supposed to rest and the dog…”

“I want my baby.” she hissed. She could feel herself getting upset and she knew it was ridiculous but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted her dog.  

Haymitch lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll go get him.” He hesitated. “You’ll be fine by yourself?”

“The children’s house is five minutes away.” she countered. “I will be fine for five minutes.”

He was reluctant to leave her and she was equally reluctant to be left alone.

He brushed his lips against hers before he left. Rationally, she knew it didn’t take him long. But the moment she was left alone the silence of the house closed in on her, _swallowed_ her. She burrowed deeper under the covers, pretending her shivers were from the cold and not because…

Barking echoed throughout the house suddenly and she relaxed.

“Snowball, come back here!” she heard Haymitch shout from downstairs. “Easy!”

The puppy was upstairs long before his owner. He came barreling inside the room, losing his footing on the floorboards and tumbling once before jumping on the bed, jostling her. She wrapped her arms around him, chuckling softly at how eagerly he licked her face. He was whining happily, his tail violently hitting the comforter in excitement.

“Thought we had a rule about the dog on the bed?” Haymitch snorted from the threshold with an uncertain smirk.

They _did_ have a rule about that but she couldn’t care less. She pressed her face against his fur, peppering him with kisses, and basked in the simple affection he was offering. She never would have thought herself a dog person… But she loved him.

“Come with us.” she requested.

She didn’t have to tell Haymitch twice. He lied down behind her and petted the dog over her side, keeping his hand between Snowball and her stomach to avoid their child getting stomped on by the overeager Samoyed. At long last, the puppy settled down and she fell asleep holding him, like a child would clutch a stuffed toy, safe between him and Haymitch’s warm body.

She drifted off to thoughts of this becoming a norm. It wasn’t very hard to imagine a toddler jumping on them, playing with the dog and cuddling with them… It was a peaceful musing.

And it made her think maybe she would be alright.

Of course, then, she _dreamed_.

She woke up screaming.

She screamed and screamed and _screamed…_

She fought the hands that wanted to hold her down, she struggled and clawed at her attacker…

“ _For fuck’s sake, Effie!”_

Haymitch’s shout finally covered her voice and she simply froze, mouth still open, unable to breathe…  She felt his hands first. On her shoulders. Then one of them cupped her cheek. It took longer for her eyes to focus on his worried face.

The sob wrecked her.

She collapsed against him and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, rocking her a little, pressing kisses against her hair.

“Shut up, Snowball.” he snapped at some point and she realized the puppy had been alarmed by her screams and was barking like crazy.

She still couldn’t stop crying.

She cried like there would be no tomorrow.

Eventually, the sobs turned into hiccups. She realized she was half sitting on his lap and she was definitely too pregnant to do that now. Snowball was curled up against his left shin, looking upset.

“I’m sorry.” she mumbled.

“Don’t be stupid.” he grumbled. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’d be more worried if you hadn’t had a proper freak out.”

“That’s not why I am sorry.” she breathed out, turning her head so she could bury her face in his neck.

Someone else might not have understood but he was Haymitch and he knew her better than anyone else.

“He had it coming.” he said slowly. “Look, I know… I _know_ it won’t make a difference but it was you or him. He had it coming, sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, placing her hand on her stomach. The baby was playing his favorite game of rolling around and kicking.

“I couldn’t let him hurt our child.” she confessed. Her throat hurt from all the screaming earlier.

“You did what you had to do.” he promised and then let out a deep breath. “It should have been me. I should have…”

“You’re being unfair to yourself.” she protested. “He was after me.”

“I should have known.” he insisted, sounding agitated. She figured the only reason he wasn’t up and pacing was because she was sitting on him and she was _heavy_. “ _Fuck_ , sweetheart, everything’s my _fucking_ fault.”

“How?” she scoffed. “He wanted revenge and…”

“I told you… I… _You know_.” he cut her off, rubbing his face. “That’s a _curse_ , I’m telling you. Should have known better. Should have…”

It took her a couple of minutes to work out what he was trying to say.

“What happened last night did not happen because you said you loved me.” she retorted with a touch of anger. “This is _not_ about you, Haymitch. This is about _me_ and…” She stopped and shook her head. Downstairs the phone started ringing again. She took a deep breath. “I killed him because I had no choice. I didn’t want… I _warned_ him I _would_ … My baby… You… I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, wiping away the tear tracks on her cheeks. “ _Everybody_ knows that, Effie.”

She swallowed hard, never looking away from his eyes. “It doesn’t change the fact that I _did_ kill him.”

He studied her for a while before licking his lips. “It’s like everything else, sweetheart. You think it’s gonna destroy but eventually you learn to live with it.”

The words weren’t exactly comforting but she supposed there wasn’t much comfort to be found in this kind of situation anyway.

“Do you still love me?” she asked and found herself horrified when her voice broke in the middle of the sentence.

“That’s even a question?” he snorted, leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. “You feel better?” She didn’t but she nodded anyway, faking a smile. It didn’t convince him but he allowed her the pretence. “It’s almost noon. We should get some food into you. What are you in the mood for?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I am not really hungry.”

“Wasn’t giving you a choice.” he shrugged, extricating himself from her to leave the bed. Snowball immediately lifted his head up, rather hopeful. _Someone_ was hungry, she supposed. “Don’t get up.” he warned her. “I’ll bring a tray up.”

“And they said I would never make a gentleman out of you…” she teased.

The puppy bolted after him, leaving her alone once more. She perused the books on the nightstand, not quite managing to focus. Her mind was wandering everywhere and nowhere at once.

She tried not to think about the nightmare, about Clay covered in blood accusing her of murdering his whole family. She tried not to think about the previous night. She tried not think about the kind of legacy she would leave to her child.

She failed.

The phone was ringing again. Haymitch must have answered because it suddenly stopped and it was followed by a very rude ‘ _fuck you’_. She figured it would stay unhooked until she eventually wandered downstairs. And she was in no hurry to do so.

_Downstairs_ …

_Downstairs_ was frightening.

Snowball scampered about after a while, carrying his favorite chew toy with him. He placed it on her lap, wiggling his tail, and, when she didn’t really react, he bolted away again only to come back with a purple stuffed monkey she had bought for him at the market and that usually resided in his bed. He made a few trips. By the time Haymitch came up with a tray loaded with pancakes, orange juice and a variety of muffins – that told her Peeta had been by at some point – all the puppy’s toys were on the bed.

She would have ranted about chewed toys that had been drooled on touching her perfectly clean sheets if she had managed to find the strength. Haymitch glanced at the mess and at her absence of reaction and frowned.

“I’m really not hungry.” she told him as he tossed the toys aside – to Snowball’s clear dismay – to settle the tray on her lap.

“Eat something.” he ordered. “Don’t think I won’t spoon feed you, sweetheart.”

She humored him a little by taking a few bites but she remained sullen for the most part of the afternoon, only perking up when the children wandered upstairs. She was self-conscious about letting them see her in pajamas, lying in bed, but when they suggested that they could probably arrange it downstairs so she could lie down on the couch, she almost flipped.

“I am _never_ going back downstairs.” she snapped.

Peeta and Katniss exchanged a look and wisely made themselves scarce until dinner.

She patted the empty space on the bed next to her so the puppy knew to jump on and proceeded to cuddle him half to death. He was a good sport about it.

Haymitch hovered awkwardly at the foot of the bed before uncertainly joining her on top of the covers.   

“You mean the living-room, yeah?” he asked cautiously, spooning her. “You don’t want to go back to the _living-room_.”

“Yes.” she lied. “To the living-room.”

“Alright.” he granted. “Do you want… We could move.”

“We are not moving.” she retorted. “This is our house.”

“It’s hardly going to be practical if you can’t go in our living-room, sweetheart.” he pointed out. “It’s not that big a deal. There are a few empty houses left in the Village. We could…”

“This is our house.” she hissed. “I will simply remain upstairs.”

“ _For now_.” he sighed, letting go of her to sit up. “You mean _for now_ , yeah?”

“ _Of_ _course_ for now.” she muttered.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in Snowball’s fur, wondering if the puppy would know what she meant if she asked him to fetch the hairbrush. His fur needed a good combing.

“Effie, it can’t be like before.” he warned.

He was referring to the first month she had spent in Twelve, hiding in his house and never wandering out.

“It won’t be.” she promised but she didn’t sound sure and neither did he.

“Alright.” he commented. “As long as we’re clear.”

“We are.” she declared.

Doctor Larcher wasn’t entirely pleased with her when he came to visit right before dinner. He told her to get plenty of rest, which included _sleep_. She wasn’t actually on board with that plan. She smiled and nodded and swore to do as was recommended but she knew, deep down, there would be no sleep to be found.

They all ate dinner in the bedroom, which was entirely ridiculous and absolutely improper but no one wanted to listen to her when she said she would be fine by herself. Katniss sat with her while Haymitch and Peeta walked the dog to the meadow for a while. The girl tried to force her to get some rest and Effie came very close to snapping at her.

She _did_ snap at Haymitch later on, once the children were gone, when he tried to guilt-trip her into sleep.

“Think about the baby.” he growled. “You _need_ to rest.”

“I _am_ lying down. I _am_ resting.” she retorted coldly.

They spent half the night glaring at opposite walls, not talking to each other but very much staying awake. She told him multiple times that he didn’t need to forego sleep because she was but he argued that if she needed anything he wanted to be able to fetch it for her. At some point around three, she turned around and used his stomach as a pillow.

“I don’t want to dream of him.” she confessed.

“I know.” he sighed. “But you’re growing a baby, sweetheart. You can’t go too long without sleep. It’s not like before.”

It very much _felt_ like _before_ … In the dark weeks after her rescue and the difficult months after Haymitch had been forced to escort Katniss back to Twelve, leaving her behind again.

She drifted off around five but Haymitch didn’t sleep. He got up at six to let the puppy out in the backyard and take care of the geese and then came back to the bedroom where he proceeded to hover around. The baby was pretty agitated, kicking up and down, and so she didn’t pay him much attention, trying to relax, eyes closed if only to prevent any more remarks.

“Hey.” she heard Peeta’s voice call from the corridor.

“ _Shh_. She’s _finally_ sleeping.” Haymitch rebuked him before leaving the room, leaving her to privately roll her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She opened her eyelids but he had nudged the door shut and she couldn’t see them. Not that it mattered, she heard them perfectly.

“The press is going crazy.” the boy sighed. “The story’s out. They know Clay’s dead and they know Effie was rushed out of here in an ambulance. They’re publishing crazy theories all around Panem. Jo called Katniss… Some papers are saying you killed him, others say Effie is _dead_ or that she lost the baby… Everyone’s speculating.”

“Let them.” Haymitch grumbled. “The more we feed media attention, the worse it’ll get.”

“If we give out an official version…” Peeta suggested.

“No.” he spat, most likely shaking his head. “Let them try to piece it together. We’re safe in the Village. They’ll move on and leave us alone.”

“If you’re sure…” the boy hesitated.

“Trust me, I _am_.” Haymitch insisted. “They’ll get bored. They’ll move on.”

“Alright.” Peeta accepted. “I brought some cupcakes for Effie.”

She forced herself to swallow a cupcake and a half later on, just to make the boy happy. At no point did Haymitch brief her about the press issue and she didn’t push because she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. Let the press have their field day with her life, it wouldn’t be the first time and she figured it wouldn’t be the last.

She was withdrawn that day. She knew she was. The children sat with her, trying to interest her in mindless gossip and chatter, exploring the weather topic until they were all sick and tired of hearing about the snowstorm that was bound to hit… She lied on her side and hugged her puppy and remained mostly unresponsive.

“I aimed for the throat.” she whispered at some point in late afternoon. The children had offered to take Snowball out for a couple of hours because he was getting restless. It was only Haymitch and her on their bed. He didn’t answer her and she couldn’t estimate his reaction because she had her back turned to him. “You told me once… During the Games… You told me one should _always_ aim for the side of the neck if one is going for a deadly strike.”

He brushed her hair aside and pressed a kiss against her neck, right on her pulse point.

Her eyes filled with tears but she didn’t shed them.

Way later, once they all had dinner in the bedroom again like decadent people and the children had gone home, once Snowball had settled at the foot of the bed where he was apparently now sleeping, and they were both so exhausted they could have dropped dead asleep but were both avoiding sleeping for their own reasons, Haymitch scooted down the bed and kissed her stomach.

He had done so before, countless times during sex and a few times since they had found out about the pregnancy, but never quite so reverently.

“Hey, shrimp…” he muttered, placing a hand on the side of her belly to better feel him moving. “It’s… It’s your father.” He paused and took a deep breath. His fingers were quivering and he was obviously fighting the panic that came with that word. “Thought I should tell you now ‘cause, you know… Never too early to get a lead on those things… You’ve got the best mother in the whole world…” His thumb drew soothing patterns on her skin. “ _So_ brave. You won’t ever get how brave. And smart too. She’s kind of ridiculous so you won’t notice that right away but… She’s _real_ smart, your mama.”

“Haymitch…” she hummed, playing with the shorter hair on his nape. “What are you…”

“You mind?” Haymitch muttered. “I’m talking to my kid. The book says it’s important to do that.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly focused his attention on her stomach again. “I’m proud of her. Not my place to be proud, yeah? But I am anyway.” She gaped a little but he wouldn’t look at her. He was blushing a little, stubbornly staring at the bump. “She can survive anything. She can… She makes everything _so much_ better… It was really dark before she came around, you know. And she… She brought colors back.”

“Haymitch…” she whispered.

“She’s strong.” he continued. “So _fucking_ strong. She doesn’t know how much sometimes. And she’s got a good heart. She’s a good person. Made mistakes but that’s okay, we all do. You’ll too. She’s got a _good_ heart.”

He finally settled back next to her and she did her best not to betray any sign of emotion. He would have hated that.

She used his shoulder as a pillow.

But neither of them could bring themselves to sleep.

“I want a drink.” he confessed around dawn.

“Stay in bed with me.” she begged.

He stayed as instructed but she kept tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable position. Her stomach felt upset – something that, Larcher told them during his morning visit – was completely normal if inconvenient.

She was tired and cranky.

She and Haymitch argued over the breakfast tray she didn’t want to eat, they argued about the sleep she didn’t want to get and they argued over the visits she didn’t want to receive. Eileen had offered to walk up to the village but she had a newborn to think about and Effie didn’t see the point in forcing her friend to go so far in the snow that was steadily pouring from the sky. She could see the huge snowflakes through the window and wondered how long it would take before they all got snowed in.

It was cold in the house.

They had turned the heating system as high as it would go but without a fire downstairs… 

Katniss piled up more blankets on the bed when she caught Effie shivering one too many times. Snowball wriggled his way under the covers, which Haymitch frowned upon but she couldn’t care less. She liked having the puppy close. It comforted her.

She used to have a doll when she was a child… One she had never slept without and to which she had clung to at night… Her mother had taken it away when she had declared Effie was too old for such nonsense. She was treating Snowball the same way she used to treat that doll and she wondered what that meant about her frame of mind.

Peeta offered to keep working on the nursery, showing her samples and sketches she barely glanced at. She was too tired, her mind was playing tricks on her again. She thought she saw people moving in the shadows at the corners of the room, people with knives eager to pounce on her, but they were never there.

Katniss distracted her as best as she could by bringing a huge pile of magazines she had bought in town and that would probably take them a week to go through. She picked up one of the books about baby names and suggested a few to Effie, trying to lure her in into a conversation… Effie answered by monosyllabic words.

Haymitch seemed to be at the end of his tether. She distinctly heard Larcher ordering him to get some rest – right before threatening her to have her moved back into the clinic if she didn’t _finally_ sleep. She didn’t think he had slept at all since the whole thing had happened three nights earlier. He looked as bad as she felt.

“Just get some sleep.” he begged her for half the night. “Close your eyes and… I’ll be _right here_ , okay? If you have a nightmare, I’ll be…”

She wouldn’t be convinced. She fought sleep. She fought it tooth and nails. Forcing her eyelids open every time she drifted off, snapping at Haymitch when he became too insisting.

He stormed off the bed and out of the bedroom at some point, his temper flaring. Snowball whined, looked from the door Haymitch had just gone through to her, and then followed after him, leaving her alone and annoyed.

She heard him banging cupboards open and closed downstairs. She heard the backdoor too and the joyful barking of Snowball in the backyard.

She was worried he would walk somewhere to find booze but when he came back upstairs and climbed back in bed, the hem of his sweatpants wet and the rest of his body freezing, he simply smelt strongly of coffee. The dog, on the other hand, was completely soaked.

“You should not let him play in the snow so late.” she chided him, pushing the covers away. “He will get sick.”

He prevented her from getting up but they argued some more until he gave in and fetched a towel from the bathroom. She wasn’t happy until he had rubbed the puppy dry and had brought her the purple hairbrush specifically dedicated to the dog’s grooming.

“You’re impossible.” he spat. “You’re _fucking_ impossible. It’s _four_ a.m, Effie. You’ve been awake for…”

She kept on combing the puppy’s fur, clenching her jaw in annoyance. “Watch your mouth. We are having a baby.”

“You can’t have a baby if you’re never going to sleep again.” he pointed out.

“You should not have drunk coffee so late.” she retorted. “It makes you difficult.”

“ _Difficult_?” he scorned. “ _I_ ’m difficult? You’re refusing to sleep. We’re starting the sixth month tomorrow and you’re _fucking_ not getting any rest! You’re…”

She brutally tossed the hairbrush at the wall. It bounced back on a framed picture Peeta had gifted them with a while ago, leaving a dent on the painting. She buried her fingers in her hair and tugged hard while Snowball jumped off her lap, rushing straight to the hairbrush, thinking this was simply a game of fetch.

“Someone tried to kill me in my own house.” she snapped. “I _killed_ someone. I am having flashbacks every two hours. _Let_ _me_ _deal_.”

“You’re _not_ dealing.” he growled. “That’s the _fucking_ problem. You’re _not_ dealing. You’re not even _pretending_ to deal. You’re putting _our child_ in danger because…”

“ _Fuck you_.” she cut him off and the vulgarity was enough to render him silent. She settled on her side, her back to him.

“Effie.” he sighed, reaching out for her. She shrugged his hand off.

“Let me sleep.” she growled. “So I do not put our child in danger.”

It didn’t take her long to fall prey to slumber.

It didn’t stop the dreams from coming.

She woke up screaming again, directly in Haymitch’s arms, his whispers guiding her back to reality. She pushed him away as soon as she had caught her breath. She curled up on her side and stared at the wall.

She refused to utter a word.

She had nothing to say to anyone anymore.


	19. Twenty-Three Weeks

Haymitch stumbled more than he walked to the nursery, exhaustion blurring his sight.

“Hey.” he called to get Peeta’s attention. The boy had been working on painting cartoonish animals all morning. “I’m getting some coffee. Want some?”

“I’m not sure you should have any more, Haymitch.” Peeta chided him. “You should get some sleep.”

He waved that away. “Yeah. When Effie’s better.”

_If_ she got better, rather. It had been four days since she had been attacked and she wasn’t improving.

“How is she doing?” Peeta asked.

“Sleeping when she can’t help it, barely eating and still not talking.” he summed up, rubbing his face. _Cuddling the damn dog and refusing to look at me like I’m the_ fucking _enemy for calling her bullshit out_ , he silently added. “Katniss is with her. I need a break.”

“You need _sleep_.” the boy insisted.

Haymitch snorted on his way downstairs.

“Sleep.” he muttered. “Best joke ever.”

The closed door of the living-room was glaring at him and he wondered what they were going to do about that but it was a distant thought. There were more pressing concerns.

He had barely set a foot in the kitchen when someone knocked on the door. He sighed and spared a glance for the unhooked phone, berating himself for thinking it would be enough to stop noisy people from badgering them. Any hope he had of the unwelcomed visitor leaving if ignored disappeared when they started _hammering_ on the door. 

He put on his fiercest scowl and tore the front door open, ready to tell whoever it was to _go to hell_. The words died on his lips – _just_ in time – and he stood there, staring wide eyes at the woman with turquoise dyed hair gathered in a slightly disheveled puffy bun.

“Where is my daughter?” Elindra Trinket hissed, shoving him back by thrusting her bag in his stomach. He grabbed it by reflex, alarmed to spot two more suitcases on the porch. There were tracks in the snow, she must have struggled to get to the Village. _Hell_ , with the snow that had been coming down hard for the last two days, she must have struggled to get to _Twelve_ at all. “ _Well_. Will you step aside? It is simply _rude_ to make a lady wait. And it is even _ruder_ not to answer perfectly legitimate questions. _Where is my daughter?”_

“Upstairs.” he stammered out at last, moving back to let her in. “What…”

“So she _is_ alive, then?” Elindra insisted, jutting her chin up in the air. The way she fiddled with her purse betrayed her nervousness though. Relief washed over her face and Haymitch felt like the most absolute jerk. He hadn’t even _thought_ about her family. They had been so removed from their lives up until a few weeks ago… He had never taken the Trinkets into account before. _Ever_. He had never needed to. As far as he was concerned, her parents were distant assholes who had never realized how lucky they were to have her for a daughter. _However_ , he couldn’t deny they had been trying lately. There had been more phone calls in the last seven weeks than in the entire time he had known Effie.  

“Yeah.” he immediately nodded, dropping her bag next to the coat rack to drag her suitcases inside – and he instinctively _stopped himself_ from understanding what the suitcases meant because he was already exhausted and he didn’t need the headache inducing thought that Effie’s mother would stay with them for an undetermined period of time. It was cold and he didn’t want the draft to get inside. “She’s fine. She’s…” His voice trailed off and then he shook his head again. “No, she’s not _fine_ but she’s… She’s not badly _injured_.”

“And the baby?” she asked.

“He’s alright too.” he confirmed.

Elindra breathed a sigh of relief and then she glared at him – and it was a _powerful_ glare. “What _in Panem_ is wrong with your phone? We have been calling for _days_. Do you have _any_ idea the horrors the press is printing? Do you have any idea…”

“I forgot.” he cut her off. “Sorry.”

“ _You forgot_?” she repeated through clenched teeth. “I thought my daughter and my grandson were _dead_. Do you…”

“I said _sorry_.” he snapped. “It hasn’t exactly been _easy_ here. She’s gone catatonic again. She’s…” He rubbed his face with both hands, annoyed to find his fingers were badly shaking. “The house’s freezing and I should start a fire but I can’t _go_ in the living-room ‘cause there’s blood everywhere and… She could have been _killed_. And I was…” He pressed the heels of his hands against his burning eyes to the point of pain. “I can’t _get_ to her. She won’t _listen_. I could have lost her and… I want a _fucking_ drink. I _fucking_ want a _fucking_ drink but I _ain’t_ drinking ‘cause the kid deserves better. But _fuck…_ ”

The rant could have gone on longer even though he had no idea why he was pouring his troubles out like that. Maybe because he had been keeping them trapped in his chest for too long. There were things he didn’t want to burden the kids with. As far as the kids were concerned – and as far as _Effie_ was concerned most of the time – he was in charge. He had been their mentor, he had been her victor… The decision making power automatically fell on him every time. And he _didn’t want_ to burden them because they were worried enough as it was. They were _all_ worried enough. But he had almost _lost_ her and…

Elindra brought an end to his rant and his freaking out by grasping his wrist.

Her palms were freezing and it made him groan.

“You are hysterical.” she stated, cold but calm. He dropped his hands and looked at her, surprised to find the way she pursed her lips in disapproval was identical to Effie’s pout. “And clearly _worn out_. Have you been at her side the whole time?”

“’Course I was.” he mumbled, almost offended she would doubt it.

“Then you need rest.” she decided. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. The house wasn’t as clean and tidy as it used to be and she pursed her lips even more. Her gaze settled on the closed door though. “ _That_ is the living-room, I presume?”

He nodded, too tired  to do anything else.

“I will take care of it.” she declared, as if it was _that_ easy. “If you would bring my bags up to the guest room… I _assume_ you have a guest room? Or should I look into other accommodations in town?”

“Yeah, we do… You can stay here, yeah… Not sure it’s ready.” He made a face. He didn’t know where Effie kept the good linen – and he was very sure if he gave Elindra anything but the good linen he would get murdered twice: once by each of the two Capitol women. He also wasn’t sure he wanted her in his house. Tadius Trinket, he could have composed with. Her sister, he might have managed to get along with too. _Elindra Trinket,_ now? And _then_ he realized… They didn’t have a guest room anymore. They had a _nursery_. “Wait, the guest room… It won’t work. There’s the study. There’s a pull-out couch.”

She looked simply _horrified_.

“ _A pull-out_ … No matter.” Elindra waved that off. “I can manage. I would like to see Effie now.”

He didn’t ask how long she was staying.

At that point, he wasn’t even sure he cared. He still couldn’t quite see straight.

He led the way upstairs, not really surprised to find Peeta on the threshold of the nursery with a curious look on his face. It only grew more flabbergasted when he caught sight of the obviously Capitol woman behind him – the blue hair and the fluffy hairy fur coat she had yet to take off were clues enough. Nobody in that house was very at ease with Capitols that weren’t Effie or Plutarch.

“Effie’s mom’s here.” he muttered in ways of an explanation.

“Oh, I heard voices.” Peeta smiled “I wondered.” He immediately outstretched a hand to Elindra who looked pleased by his manners – _of course,_ Peeta would charm the pants out of her mother, of course. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Trinket. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Was that a lie? Haymitch couldn’t tell. He rubbed his eyes again.

“I must say I have heard _quite_ a lot about you too, Mr Mellark.” Elindra replied in an enchanted tone Haymitch figured to be faked, barely listening when the boy told her she could call him Peeta. “My daughter _swears_ by your baked goods. And she tells me you are a _talented_ painter as well. A gentleman should _always_ have several hobbies.” She poked her head in the nursery without giving him time to answer. “I see you are helping getting everything ready for the baby. How _nice_ of you. What _darling_ cartoons you painted. How _clever_. Will it stay that shade of yellow, Haymitch? When Effie described it, I didn’t picture _this_ shade at all.” Haymitch made a face and Elindra pursed her lips again. “No matter, no matter. We will have time to fix that later on. Now… My daughter?”

She talked just as loud as Effie did and her accent was thick. Haymitch dragged his feet to their bedroom, feeling like he was leading a fox into a rabbit den. Katniss glanced up at him but she didn’t stop reading until she spotted the woman’s dyed blue hair. Then she bolted from the chair, eyes darting around, no doubt looking for a weapon.

“It’s fine.” Haymitch said quickly. “We’re all safe, sweetheart.”

Elindra immediately stared at the lump under the blankets that was Effie but her daughter gave no indication that she had realized she was in the room and that threw her off. Snowball lifted his head from where he was crushed against Effie’s chest, sniffed the air, sneezed because Elindra’s perfume was _pungent_ , and then lied back down like the lazy puppy Effie was turning him into.

“Miss Everdeen, I suppose.” the Capitol woman commented, less delighted with Katniss than she had been with Peeta. That much was clear already. Although, to be fair, Katniss was still glaring at her with mistrust. “What were you reading to my daughter?”

The information was planted there for a purpose, Haymitch understood, because he hadn’t introduced her yet and Katniss didn’t know who she was. It told him Elindra was good at the appearance game. Maybe as good as Effie – which wouldn’t be surprising given that his escort had always claimed her mother had groomed her from infancy to be the Capitol’s poster child.

“A fashion magazine.” Katniss replied slowly, assessing her. When she decided Elindra wasn’t a source of danger – physical at least – she turned to him. “Effie’s not going back to the Capitol.”

He startled because the thought hadn’t even come to him. Was _that_ why Elindra had traveled alone to the other side of Panem? To…

“ _Of course_ , she is not.” the woman declared, not hiding her regrets. “She is _bent_ on staying here so here she will stay. Now… If you would be so kind as to help setting up the study for me?” Haymitch took a step toward the door, thinking that was meant for him. “Not you, dear.” Elindra said. And there was so much disdain in that _dear…_ “ _You_ will take a shower and then get some well needed sleep. I am sure your victors will be happy to help me with everything I need in the meantime.”

“Shower.” he repeated flatly.

He was at a point where words didn’t exactly make sense.

“You kind of need one.” Katniss conceded. “ _Badly_.”

Peeta touched Katniss’ arm and they left. Elindra stared at her daughter with a small pout.

“Dogs should _not_ reside on one’s bed.” she declared.

“Yeah…” he shrugged. “We had a rule about that but she likes holding him.”

“It won’t do.” she insisted. “Shoo it away.”

He felt annoyance at the way she was giving out orders under his own roof but, truth be told, she had a point. Effie was treating Snowball like a stuffed animal.

He clicked his tongue twice and gestured with his hand. The puppy jumped from the bed and ran to his feet – _after_ pausing at Elindra’s to sniff her all over, which she clearly didn’t like at all. He petted him a few times but Snowball was eager to leave the room, he heard Katniss curse downstairs when the dog shot between her legs.

The Capitol woman approached the bed and Haymitch had the distinct feeling she didn’t quite know how to do this. From what Effie had told him, her mother wasn’t exactly the caring type, affectionate gestures didn’t come easily to her – if at all.

“Euphemia.” she whispered in a voice that betrayed anguish and a gut-wrenching terror Haymitch recognized as the one he had felt when he had thought Effie had lost the baby. Elindra had honestly feared for Effie’s life and… He _should_ have remembered to call her parents. The woman’s hand landed on his escort’s shoulder, her grip hesitant at first and then firmer. She shook it a little, probably hoping Effie would stop looking straight at the wall and start paying attention to what was going on around her. “Euphemia, darling… You will make me have a heart attack one of those days. Or _worse_ , grey hair. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He frowned and almost stepped in because he didn’t need anyone putting _that_ sort of ideas in her head but, then, Effie blinked and turned her head, her eyes focusing for the first time in hours.

“Mommy?” she asked, sounding frail and uncertain.

Elindra recoiled. It was subtle and quickly concealed but he saw it all the same.

“You have not called me that in a _long_ time…” Elindra commented, brushing tangled blond hair away from her daughter’s face. “ _Truly_ , it is _not_ proper, Effie. You are not a child.”

Effie reached out and touched her arm as if she wasn’t sure she was real. “Mother?” Her voice sounded stronger, more confident, and Haymitch only felt relief. He would take _anything_ over helpless catatonia. “What are you doing here?”

“Your idiotic victor forgot to warn us you were alright.” Elindra hissed. “Your father was in such a state… Do you know _how many_ trains I _had_ to ride to get _here_? I will fill a complain. It is simply unacceptable that there is no direct connection between the city and this District. We _still_ know people, thankfully.” She breathed out a deep sigh. “Anyway. As I was saying, your victor failed to reach out to us and no matter how many times we called… You really _ought_ to have your phone fixed, by the way. Do _not_ worry a bit, Euphemia, I will take care of it. I will take care of _everything_. It might be for the best that your… that _Haymitch_ was so remiss. It is _glaring_ you all need me.” He opened his mouth to argue the point – _fiercely_ argue the point – but it was as if Elindra had eyes glued at the back of her head. “No need for more apologies, Haymitch. I understand you were under pressure and you were worried about my daughter, naturally. Priorities are what they are. I forgive you, I suppose. Now, go take that shower.”

“Lady…” he growled, about to explain _why_ exactly she wasn’t the boss of him.

“Haymitch, please.” Effie cut in, sitting up a little.

He snapped his jaw shut and headed to the dresser to grab some clean sweatpants and a shirt.

“I met your victors.” Elindra told Effie in an eager voice. “ _Why_ , Peeta is simply a _darling_. I am not quite sure about your Mockingjay but…”

He hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind him to shut the sound of Elindra’s voice. It was giving him a headache.

The shower did him some good. He didn’t think he had washed since _that_ night. The hot water relaxed his tensed muscles and he drifted off without meaning to. He was barely able to stay upright when he finally came back to the bedroom – to blissful silence, fortunately.

Elindra wasn’t gone though. She was apparently reorganizing the beauty products on Effie’s dressing table.

“She is asleep.” she informed him and he glanced at the bed to find that Effie _really_ was sleeping.

“You’ve got magic powers or what?” he grumbled.

She lifted two identically dyed blue eyebrows. “I suspect I always bored her a little if that is what you mean. Now. _You_ will get some rest while I confer with your victors about how best to find a housekeeper.”

“Kids.” he corrected in an indistinct mumble as he climbed in bed next to Effie. “They’re not our _victors_ , they’re our _kids_.”

He almost expected an argument.

“ _Children_ , very well.” she accepted. “Duly noted. _Do_ try to sleep, Haymitch, you look like death’s warmed over.”

“Thanks.” he snorted, eyes already closed, wrapping an arm around Effie’s form.

“ _Why_ , you are _welcomed_.” Elindra replied. “We are all family now, aren’t we?”

She sounded pained about that and he could only concur. He suspected if it hadn’t been for the baby… He didn’t ask though and she didn’t add anything else. She finished screwing up Effie’s system and then she was out the door.

The last thought he had before finally giving up to slumber was for a housekeeper he _really_ didn’t want.

He felt hangovered when he woke up, like only too many hours of sleep after a long bout of insomnia could do. His stomach rumbled and he buried his face in his pillow with a groan. It smelt good. Whatever it was he was smelling, it smelt _good_.

“Welcome back to the land of the awake.”

He opened his eyes and looked up. Effie was propped against a pillow, blankets and covers pooling on her lap, an appetizing bowl of soup propped on her protuberating stomach. She had also changed clothes at some point because she wasn’t wearing his shirt anymore but one of her own nightgowns.

“How long was I out?” he mumbled, pressing a kiss against her stomach because it was the closest to his face and because it was two birds with one stone. He liked greeting the shrimp.

“All day.” she hummed. “I woke up mid-afternoon and you did not even so much as twitch.”

He made a face as he sat up. “Nightmare?”

“Yes.” she admitted, staring at her bowl of soup. “But I _do_ feel better now that I had some proper rest. I am sorry for…”

“Don’t.” he cut her off. “It’s fine.”

“It is not but it is kind of you to say so.” she sighed, holding out her spoon. “Do you want some? I’ve had a bowl and a half already.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. The soup was _so good_ …

“Did your mom make that?” he asked.

He wasn’t expecting her to burst out laughing but it was such a welcomed sound… He felt something uncoil in his stomach. If she could still laugh, they would get through this. _They would_.

“My mother does _not_ cook.” she breathed out between two heavy chuckles. “She tried to hire help through the children and, apparently, Sae took offense.”

The spoon froze on its way to his mouth. On one hand, it explained why it tasted so familiar. On the other… “Sae’s going to kill her before the day is through.”

“Oh, there’s been plenty of arguments so far but they seem evenly matched.” she told him. “I also heard a lot of furniture being moved downstairs…”

He tossed a worried glance at the closed bedroom door, half afraid of what he would find when he would venture out. He probably should have checked it out _right then_ because he had an inkling Elindra would want to change everything up to her standards and he also _knew_ Sae had been dying to meddle for a while now.

He loved the old woman, he _did_ , but she was _a pain_ , she always treated him like a kid and… The force of those two combined? He wasn’t liking his odds.

“Where’s Snowball?” he asked, suddenly worried they would have forced the puppy to remain in the backyard. A happy bark answered him from the corner of the room where the dog’s padded bed now laid. Having mistaken his name for a call, Snowball jumped on him, tail wriggling left and right in his enthusiasm, and if Effie hadn’t rescued the soup, it would have spilled everywhere. He rubbed the puppy’s belly but still frowned. “His bed was in the living-room.”

Effie took a deep breath, any trace of amusement gone from her voice. “Peeta brought it up. Mother said she’s taking care of the living-room, which, I suppose, means _Sae_ and the children are taking care of the living-room under her supervision.”

He must have slept like the dead not to hear any of that happening…

“Okay.” he said slowly, studying her. “How long is she staying?”

Because now that he wasn’t sleep-deprived anymore, it seemed like an important question.

“She did not say.” she winced. “She has been… She is being _nice,_ Haymitch, and…”

“You don’t want her to go.” he finished, trying very hard not to scowl at the notion.

“Not _right now_.” she confirmed in a pleading voice. “I would like her to stay a few days… Perhaps a week? She was _very_ worried. I know you…”

“Whatever, sweetheart.” he gave in with a sigh. “As long as you take care of yourself…”

He was rewarded with a kiss on his cheek that made him smirk. He wasn’t fooled though. He wasn’t any different from the dog whose belly he was scratching. She had him well trained. 

He nudged Snowball off the bed and lied back down, deciding that checking on the rest of the house could wait until the next morning. Effie settled down on her side, facing him, and he placed his hand on her stomach.

“You really feel better or you’re just saying that?” he asked after a few minutes.

“I killed a man.” she answered. “I do not think I will be right as rain in a matter of days but…” She forced a smile and rubbed the baby bump. “We are having a baby. I will be fine. _We_ will be fine. We do not have a choice.”

“Katniss thought your mom was here to take you back.” he told her. “If she had tried, I think the girl would have kicked her ass.”

“She mentioned it.” Effie confessed, averting her eyes.

“Katniss?” he frowned.

“My mother.” she clarified. “While you were in the shower. She begged me to reconsider staying in such a dangerous District.”

He tensed, his fingers clenching a little on her stomach. He could feel the baby’s kicking under his palm.

“And?” he asked, sounding as detached as he could.

“Is that even a question?” she retorted, echoing his own words. “She was disappointed but she did not insist. I really _do_ think she wants to try to make our relationship work, Haymitch. It is not… She is _different_ from before. The same where it counts, but different where it matters. When we were in Four, Father said… I do not think she wants us to be estranged anymore even if it means accepting my choices. Or pretending to, at least.”

“Good.” he shrugged. Her screwed up relationship with her mother had always been a sore point for her, if they could fix things… He wasn’t really a _forgive and forget_ kind of guy but Effie could be. He didn’t particularly want to think about Elindra or the damages she was probably inflicting to his house as they spoke so he decided a change of topic was in order. “What about Niall?”

“For a name?” she hummed, wrinkling her nose. “I read about that one. It means _champion_ … It rings a little too close to home, don’t you think?”

He had never known the meaning. It was just a common enough name in Twelve.

“Yeah, better not.” he sighed.

“Why not Ianus?” she suggested.

“No way.” he snorted.

She rolled her eyes. “It is short, which is your preference. And it is distinguished, which is mine. What _is_ wrong with Ianus?”

“What _isn’t_ wrong with Ianus?” he countered.

“You are impossible.” she commented. “We are _never_ going to agree on a name.”

He smirked at her, leaning in to steal a kiss.

“You named the dog…” he mumbled against her lips. “Don’t I get to name the baby?”

“If I wasn’t so pregnant I would hit you with a pillow.” she warned, fighting a smile.

He completely relaxed at last.

They _would_ be fine. 


	20. Twenty-Four Weeks

Haymitch rushed into the nursery, Snowball hot on his heels, startling her. Effie frowned, glancing up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying to figure out which pieces of furniture she wanted to order and where they would best fit in the nursery. Haymitch looked agitated and the puppy immediately ran to hide behind her, a sure sign that her mother was on a rampant quest for remodeling.

Elindra had tried to send Snowball to a professional dog parlor in another District because, according to her, if they insisting on having a puppy, they should at least have one who was dyed and groomed. Effie had thought Haymitch was going to have a stroke at that one.

It had only been one of the many projects her mother had undertaken in her week in Twelve – projects that were steadily driving Haymitch crazy and that were irritating Effie to no end. Elindra wanted to _upgrade_ everything. She had been given free rein in the living-room because Effie still hadn’t been downstairs and Haymitch didn’t want to set a foot in that room unless he had to – Peeta was patiently shooting down the most eccentric ideas but she was expecting a living-room straight out of the Capitol, one that would look like her parents’: clean, uncluttered and cold.

The project was still underway but Elindra had extended her claws to the study – now turned guest room – because _naturally_ she could _not_ spend several nights on a pull-out couch. Effie had heard all about the discomfort of it after the first night and had convinced Haymitch to move the spare bed to the study if only to make the complaining stop. At which point, Elindra had decided they _didn’t_ really need a study but the guest room _was_ necessary for when people would visit and that some more remodeling was in order.

“I ain’t painting anymore, sweetheart.” Haymitch growled, shaking a warning finger in her direction. “You tell her, she wants to paint the study, she does it herself.”

Her lips twitched with amusement but her bubbling irritation resurfaced again. “Have you tried telling her that?”

“Sure, I did.” he snapped. “Either she’s deaf or she doesn’t care.”

Effie hesitated. On one hand, remodeling the living-room and the study kept Elindra busy – and prevented her from turning her attention to the rest of the house. On the other… Effie was tired by the constant commotion downstairs. All the books said the baby was becoming very sensitive to noises and that she should remain in a calm relaxing environment. Having both Haymitch and Elindra under the same roof was anything but calm or relaxing even if Haymitch took _long_ walks with Snowball – which she didn’t like because the snow was high and it was freezing outside – and avoided her mother at all cost. Elindra alone was a source of stress.

She meant well, naturally, but Effie had always had a short tolerance for her mother’s quirks and living together for a whole week was already too much. She enjoyed the attention and the awkward affection Elindra tried to show, she liked the fact that her mother wanted to make amends, but… She didn’t like having decisions ripped out from her own hands.

She had stomped her foot down when Elindra had told her she had chosen a crib and was about to order matching furniture. _She_ would choose the pieces of furniture and no one else. This was _her_ baby, _her_ house and _her_ life.

Which was why she was currently sitting down in the middle of the nursery, surrounded by catalogs, trying to _picture_ it, trying not to think about the gigantic pram/stroller that had just been delivered that morning – she hadn’t seen it because it was downstairs but Katniss had described it for her with enough mocking details. From what she had been told, it looked like a tank.

“Did you remind her we were on a budget?” she sighed.

They didn’t have financial problems by any means. Aside for his spending money on liquor, Haymitch had barely touched his monthly stipends along the years and the surviving victors still received compensation from the government. Besides, with Katniss hunting every day and Peeta baking, they never spent a lot on food either. They owned the house and Twelve wasn’t an expensive place to live in, they were well-off. However, given a choice, she would rather spend their money on their child. Getting ready to welcome a baby was _awfully_ expensive and there was the future to take into account: schools and everything that would come after that… She didn’t intent to spend their savings on a new guest room.

“Yeah.” he scoffed. “She said she’d pay herself. She wants to waste her money, she can be my guest. I ain’t paying for her crazy ideas.” He studied her, his lips pursed. “What are you sitting on the floor for?”

She brushed an imaginary lint from her pregnancy pants. “I am trying to decide what should go where. I like this crib, what do you think?” She pushed the magazine in his direction and then made a face. “I was also wondering if we had made the right choice by painting the walls yellow. I wanted gender neutral but now I wonder… There are such _cute_ example of boy nurseries in various shade of blue in there…”

“I _ain’t_ painting, sweetheart.” he warned again in a grumble, glancing at the catalog but not quite committing to anything. “And you need to be sitting on the floor _why_?”

She pursed her lips. “ _Because_ your child is being very annoying and keeps kicking me.”

And also because Doctor Larcher had lifted the bed rest order but had insisted on the fact she needed to take it easy.

A spark of amusement shone in Haymitch’s eyes and he crouched in front of her to place his hands on her stomach. “Not nice, shrimp.”

“Not nice at all.” she hummed.

Clearly thinking it was a game, Snowball jumped from where he was hiding behind her back, crouched low to the floor, butt high in the air, waving his tail… Effie pushed him to the side with a smile so he would roll over on his back. They mocked struggle for a few minutes until she playfully surrendered.

The noise, however, attracted the unwanted attention of her mother.

“Euphemia!” Elindra’s voice echoed in the corridor, coming closer. “Euphemia, your victor is being…” She froze on the nursery’s threshold and immediately wrinkled her nose. “Pray tell me, _why_ in Panem are you both sitting on the floor like _savages_?” Haymitch opened his mouth, a flash of annoyance on his face, but Effie squeezed his wrist and held out her hands so he could help her up. There was no point in protesting. Elindra didn’t look pleased by the quick compliance though. She pursed her lips tight and studied both of them in turn. “You will have caught a chill. _Truly_ , you ought to be more careful in your condition.”

Haymitch snorted and, faced with her mother’s chilly interrogative look, he shrugged and grumbled. “She hates that expression.”

“I do.” Effie confirmed, flying to his rescue. “Did you need me, Mother? I _quite_ agree with Haymitch… I do not think the study should be repainted. At least not while you are here, it would be inconvenient… You _cannot_ sleep in a room that is being repainted…”

The remark made its way into her thick brain and Elindra sighed. “I suppose you are right. No matter. There is more pressing business.”

Haymitch flashed her a sarcastic smirk. “No _shit_.” 

“Language.” both she and her mother rebuked as one.

Elindra looked less and less pleased with Haymitch. Effie estimated it wouldn’t be long before he fled the house under the pretense of walking the dog – and she would spend the whole time watching from the nursery’s window that gave on the street, waiting for him to come back because it looked more and more like a storm was about to hit, it had been snowing steadily for days now and the wind was picking up.

“The living-room has been _entirely_ refurbished. I want you to see it, perhaps put the final touches so it is a little more to your taste.” she declared. “Peeta and Katniss have been a _tremendous_ help. I shall think of ways to reward them. What would they like, do you think? Perhaps I should arrange for Peeta to come to the Capitol… I know _quite_ a few _chefs,_ you know. I am sure he would like to exchange with the best bakers… As for your Mockingjay…”

Her initial dislike of Katniss hadn’t quite abated. Katniss was naturally tough on Capitols though so it wasn’t really a surprise they didn’t see eye to eye.

“It is _quite_ unnecessary, Mother.” Effie quickly stepped in. “Although _very_ generous of you.”

Elindra let out a dubious noise that meant the children would get gifts regardless of if they wanted them or not. She had been determined to treat them as an extended part of Effie’s family and that included lecturing them about their every move and lavishing them with expensive unnecessary presents.

“Come, come!” her mother insisted, clapping her hands twice. “I want you to see how well we worked.”

She was beaming and Effie felt sick to the stomach.

Haymitch didn’t really leave her a choice. He had been avoiding the living-room since Elindra had started and he was obviously curious. He grabbed her hand and followed after her mother who was still talking about lamps and couches and how _difficult_ it was to obtain everything in a short bout of time in that District and how she had been forced to call _Tadius_ to hasten deliveries…

Effie tuned her out. The closer they got to the stairs, the sicker she felt. Her heart was racing in her chest and it was all she could hear.

When her foot touched the first step, she abruptly tore her hand away from Haymitch’s and stepped back into the comforting safety of the corridor. Her recoil had been so violent both he and Elindra turned to look at her.

“I… My apologies.” she stammered. “I do not feel well.”

“Effie.” Haymitch frowned, not quite fooled.

“I will go lie down for a moment, if you would excuse me.” she declared and then she fled to their bedroom where she closed the door as a meager rampart against the world. Her heartbeat slowly calmed down to normal and she sat down on the bed, staring at her shaking hands. It took longer for her fingers to stop quivering.

She expected Haymitch but it was Peeta who opened the door after a short polite knock. The boy’s head popped inside and, when he spotted her sitting there, he came in and closed the door behind him. He took a seat next to her and reached for her hand.

“I am fine.” she claimed cheerfully, not quite sure who she was trying to fool.

She liked keeping a certain composure in front of the children, it was a tacit rule of hers that her victors shouldn’t be burdened, that she was the adult and they were the children. It was her job to take care of them and not the other way around.

Peeta though… It had always been harder with Peeta. The boy allowed her her masks and her bubbly attitude but they had been through too much together in that prison for him not to see underneath the scratched veneer.

“Do you remember when we were in the Capitol?” he asked eventually. “After Haymitch had taken Katniss back… When it was just you and me?”

Just him and her and a clinic she had been terrified of entering each time, afraid they would realize she was crazy too and needed to be checked in. Doctor Aurelius was a nice person and a good doctor despite his detached and almost careless front. He had done a great job with Peeta and he had hinted several times that he was available if _she_ wanted to talk. She had refused though. Some things were simply too difficult to talk about, there were no words for them. Even with Haymitch… Haymitch _knew_. What she hadn’t told, he had guessed. The terror, the pain… But wording it was always difficult. Even with the man she trusted and loved most.

It was different in Peeta’s case. It had been a matter of rebuilding his mind, of finding ways to navigate around the corrupted memories, of making sure he was in control…

When she thought about what the Capitol had done to the boy… Her sight flashed _red_.

“Of course.” she nodded.

She had been dutiful about visiting Peeta even when she had been at the end of her rope. Every day, she had trudged to the clinic, hiding behind colorful dresses and faked smiles. Taking care of him, helping him… It had been all that had been keeping her afloat at that time… And when he had finally been released and he had left for Twelve… Well… She had drifted and she had let her demons grow worse and worse until she hadn’t been able to bear it anymore and she had fled to the only family that had still wanted her.

It hadn’t been smooth sailing at first but at no point had Haymitch hesitated before opening his door and stepping aside. She had known, even then, what it meant for him, who was commitment phobic and liked his seclusion, to offer her his home like that, no question asked – well, there had _been_ questions but they had mostly been practical ones that had helped him settle the problems she had left behind in the city. His hospitality had grounded her and, ultimately, she was certain it was what had helped her heal a little. More than that, it had _saved_ her. She had been on the edge of a cliff and Haymitch had pulled her back. 

And now…

Now she felt as if they were back to square one.

As if she was still the weak famished woman soaked with rain who had knocked on his door, uncertain of her welcome… As if she was still the woman who had stared back at him when he had finally opened the door with a curse for whoever had been disturbing his peace, her eyes slowly filling with tears she had stubbornly refused to shed since her mother had slammed the family house’s door in her face… As if she was still the woman who had collapsed in his arms, in his very _life_ , and had been so far gone she hadn’t been able to simply _function_ properly for weeks… 

He had patiently sewed that woman back together piece by piece with reassuring words and an awkward tenderness he was never sure how to openly offer, by giving her a safe haven that he had promised no one would ever take away, by providing the unconditional acceptance and the love she had always craved. Yes… He had sewed her back together and now she was afraid the seams were coming loose.

“When I was scared to walk out of my room because I thought I might hurt someone…” Peeta said, squeezing her hand to bring her attention back on him. “You’re the one who said it would be alright and that I had to try.” He gave her a small smile. “When I was scared to come home, you said everything would be fine, that Haymitch and Katniss were waiting for me.”

“Did I?” she replied, faking a giggle. “Don’t I sound wise.”

“Effie.” His voice was soft and worried and she dropped the act, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand, no doubt ruining her make-up, trying to swallow back the lump in her throat. Peeta squeezed her hand again. “Effie, it _will_ be alright. Everything is going to be _fine_. I promise.”

“I know.” she answered. And she _did_. She knew that nobody was going to jump on her at the bottom of the stairs. She knew nobody would attack her in the hallway. She knew there would be no corpse and no ghost in the living-room. And she also knew there was no terrible immediate danger in stepping out of the house. But…

The crux of the matter was, she – _never mind the baby she was carrying –_ was safer upstairs.

“It looks very different.” he coaxed. “Honestly, it doesn’t look like the same room at all. I don’t know how she did that but your mom really made it into something else.”

“Is it _terribly_ awful?” she asked, letting out a chocked laugh.

Peeta shook his head with an amused smile. “It’s alright, actually. _Cozy_. I think you’ll like it.”

“Elindra Trinket does _not_ do cozy, Peeta.” she countered. The mere notion was ridiculous. She fully expected something _grand_ and completely out of place. She was surprised Haymitch hadn’t yet started shouting at the top of his lungs or slammed the front door shut in a rage.

“I think she wanted to do something nice for you.” he shrugged. “She’s… _intense_.”

“A nice euphemism to describe my mother.” she joked.

“I don’t think she finds it easy to live here but she’s been trying so hard to find stuff you’d like…” he insisted. “You really should see.”

“Perhaps tomorrow.” she immediately answered. “I am tired right now.”

Peeta looked down at his feet and then back at her. “You _have_ to come downstairs at some point.”

“Tomorrow.” she repeated and they both knew it was a lie but, as always, he humored her. He pressed a kiss on her cheek and left her alone.

She did lie down because she wasn’t sure all those emotions were good for the baby and fished a book from the towering pile on Haymitch’s nightstand. She thought he must have read all the books about pregnancy and babies Panem had to offer.

She was engrossed in her reading when Haymitch finally came back upstairs with a tray full of too much food – Sae was still trying to up Elindra by feeding them as if they were an army. She was starving and she pounced on the meal with less refinement than usual. Haymitch watched her with open amusement but didn’t comment.

“Peeta claims the living-room is not a total disaster.” she ventured after a few minutes, uncomfortable with the way he was silently studying her.

“Not what I expected.” he shrugged. “I like it.”

Her eyebrows shot up. It was high praise coming from him given that it concerned something done by her very _Capitol_ mother. “Truly?”

“Come down and have a look.” It was less of a suggestion and more of a challenge.

She didn’t rise to the bait.

She tossed and turned that night though.

Not only did she knew that she wasn’t being rational about the whole _going downstairs_ thing but the baby kept tossing and turning with her, making it very difficult for her to sleep. He kicked and kicked and rolled and kicked… She kept having to get up to use the bathroom because her bladder had either shrunk or the baby was having fun playing football with it.

“You’re okay?” Haymitch asked, sounding sleepy, around three, when she came back from another trip to the bathroom.

“Your son is having a party in my uterus.” she snapped, snatching the blankets. He groaned at the sudden cold and immediately plastered himself to her back, seeking her warmth.

“Tell him to go to sleep.” he mumbled.

“Tell him yourself.” she hissed. “He is your son. Why am I not surprised that he is already insufferable?”

He groaned against her nape. “He’s gonna be _my_ son every time he does something bad, yeah?”

“I am happy we are on the same page.” she declared and then let out a sharp breath at another kick. She supposed it was good their baby was so healthy but she wished he didn’t have such powerful feet.

“Stop kicking mommy.” Haymitch chided, sneaking his hand under her gown. He rubbed her stomach, his palm warm against her skin, but it didn’t really discourage the baby.

“Music.” she suddenly remembered. “The books say it is important to make him listen to music. Did you know pregnant women who listen to classical music are statistically more likely to give birth to a gifted baby?”

“We want him to be clever or to go to sleep?” he muttered.

“Music calms babies.” she argued. “Perhaps we should try a lullaby.” Which brought her to the very scary, very valid realization… “I do not know _any_ …”

“How?” he scoffed, still half asleep. “Everyone knows at least one… Don’t tell me they don’t have fancy lullabies in the Capitol.” She remained silent for too long. “Sweetheart?”

“Ladies do not need lullabies to fall asleep.” she admitted. “Nannies were not allowed to sing lullabies to us. Fashionable songs, perhaps, but not lullabies. What will I sing to him when he is here? I do not know _any_. I…”

She was working herself into a panic but his low humming put an end to it. The melody was somehow familiar even if it sounded slightly off key to her. “ _Deep in the meadow, under the willow…”_

“No.” she cut him off, as soon as she identified the song. Memories of watching Katniss clutching a tiny little body to her chest flashed in her mind and she closed her eyes tight. “ _Never_ that one.”

“It’s a traditional lullaby.” he argued. “Mama used to sing it for my brother and me.”

“Not anymore.” she countered. “Now… It will bring bad luck. Not this one. _Please_.”

“Fine, fine…” he sighed, letting her know she was annoying him. “What then?”

“Don’t you know another?” she begged.

He let out another deep sigh but gently rubbed her stomach as he started to hum again. The effect was almost immediate. The baby stopped kicking. _“Hush little baby don’t you cry, Papa’s gonna sing you a lullaby; Hush little baby don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…”_

He stopped and she felt the baby starting to move again. She didn’t care if it was all in her head or if their child _really_ like to hear his voice, she just wanted the baby to stop kicking long enough for her to sleep.

“Go on!” she urged him. “It is working.”

“I can’t sing.” he protested. “You’ve got the best voice.”

“Haymitch, finish this lullaby or _I swear_ …” she threatened.

“Fine. _If that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a golden ring…_ ” he went on and then snorted. “Must be a Capitol song.” She whacked his arm and he went on. “ _If that golden ring turns to brass, Papa’s gonna buy you…_ I don’t remember what comes next.”

“Make it up.” she hummed, her eyelids dropping.

_“Hush little baby_ …” he started again.

She fell asleep well before the chorus.

Haymitch was long gone when she woke up the next morning, his side of the bed already cold. She kept busy upstairs until around ten, at which point, she started feeling very hungry. It was odd nobody had been up with a breakfast tray yet and she was growing restless.

“Haymitch!” she called out, at long last.

“A lady does not raise her voice in the house, Euphemia!” came the immediate rebuke from downstairs.

“ _My_ house.” she muttered under her breath, taking a step toward the stairs but not going much further. “Mother, where is Haymitch?”

She tried to keep her voice loud enough so it would carry but soft enough that it wouldn’t warrant another rebuke. She shouldn’t have worried. Elindra appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her with pursed lips and open disapproval.

“He seemed to think we will get snowed in soon and that it would be best to stock up food before that.” her mother answered with a huff. “ _Snowed in_ , really! The enjoyment you can find in living here, I do _not_ know. Your father is frantic at the prospect of a snow storm so violent that we would be trapped in the house, let me tell you.”

“It usually only lasts a couple of days.” she assured her. “If you would prefer to board a train back to the Capitol _now_ , I would _perfectly_ understand though…”

She was unable to hide the touch of hope from her voice. If her mother detected it, she didn’t let on.

“And leave my youngest daughter in her time of need?” Elindra scoffed. “ _Unthinkable_.”

“I am happy to have you here, Mother, but I am much better now…” she ventured. “Surely, Father and Lyssa are eager to have you back.”

“I will _not_ leave until I am _absolutely_ certain you are recovered.” she argued. “And I will _not_ be convinced until you walk down those stairs. I bought a _darling_ little romper in town, yesterday. It is in the kitchen, would you like to see it? You must be hungry…”

Irritation flared in her belly.

“Is your genius plan to starve me until I have no other choice but to come down?” she asked.

Elindra didn’t even blink. “Now, now… I have _no idea_ what you are talking about. Peeta brought _scones_ earlier. They would be _delicious_ with some of this strawberry tea you are so fond of...”

She gritted her teeth. “Mother.”

“You victor will be _hours_.” Elindra hummed, suddenly fascinated by her manicure. “Why, he _did_ mention something about helping Katniss with whatever it was in the woods and, naturally, he must strengthen the pen for those horrors he calls pets…”

“You cannot deny me food all day.” Effie hissed. “I am _pregnant_.”

_And not thirteen anymore,_ she almost added. Although when she had been thirteen and too chubby for her mother’s taste, she had at least be granted soup and steamed vegetables.

“Deny you food?” Elindra repeated, faking offense. “But it is _right here_ in the kitchen, Euphemia, all laid out on the table for you. Did I mention the jam? That Sae woman brought it the other day. Apricot, I believe. She seemed to think it was a favorite of yours.”

Effie really, _really_ wanted to storm back to the bedroom but her stomach was rumbling and she was starting to feel faint. She needed food _now_. It wasn’t just hunger, it was her body warning her that she was growing a baby and that some fuel was necessary to do that properly.

How long until Peeta or Katniss wandered over? And even if they did… Would Elindra let them do as they wished? She _could_ be convincing. And Haymitch leaving all day was suspicious _at best_. It reeked of one of her mother manipulations.

“Mother, please.” she begged. “I really _cannot_.”

“Of course, you _can,_ Effie.” Elindra argued. “I did _not_ raise you to cower in your bed at the first difficulty. You faced worse. Stop acting like a child and come downstairs.”

“I am _not_ acting like a child.” she hissed. “I simply… I _cannot_.”

She was _afraid_.

She was afraid something bad would happen again.

She was afraid to face what she had done.

She was afraid it would be too much.

She was afraid…

She hugged her pregnant stomach.

“Euphemia.” Her mother’s voice was sharp, _harsh_. It was an echo of her childhood, a reminder of all the ways she had tried and failed to reach the standards of perfection Elindra had expected of her. “Come down here this instant. There will be no coaxing and no humoring this tantrum of yours any longer. Hurry, if you please. Eyes bright, chin up, smile on.”

The familiar sentence called to something buried deep inside her, the child who had never been able to completely shrug off her mother’s less than stellar opinion and, as such, had always strived to satisfy her.

Her feet moved without her consent.

She gripped the banister tight but down she went. It was only once she was face to face with Elindra that she realized she was sobbing in fear.

She was waiting for something to attack her but nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“Now, now…” Elindra hushed her, clasping her shoulder tight and dabbing at her wet cheeks with her handkerchief. “I _knew_ you were capable. They all coddle you _way_ too much. See? Nothing to fear. Now, come. You should have had something to eat hours ago. What were you _thinking_? You are expecting, Euphemia, you should take better care of yourself. I do _not_ know what I did to get such a stubborn daughter…”

She let her mother steer her to the kitchen, keeping her blue eyes on the floor so she wouldn’t get any glimpse of the living-room, and complied when she was nudged to a chair. Elindra hadn’t been lying. The table was dressed for breakfast, loaded with everything she liked best. Her mother struggled to turn on the stove but soon the kettle was boiling and Elindra placed a glass of orange juice right in front of her, briefly squeezing her shoulder. 

“Have a scone, darling.” her mother insisted, filling her plate. “The hardest part is over now. Oh, you will _love_ the living-room, I just _know_ it… Do not fear, I took care of _everything._ ”

Elindra wasn’t happy until Effie had bitten on a scone, had drunk the orange juice and was sipping her cup of tea. Truth be told, she felt more grounded once she had some food in her and she realized she had _missed_ spending time in their kitchen.

She suffered her mother’s nonsensical chatting, doing her best to keep up and not space out.

Once she declared herself stuffed, Elindra pulled out a shopping bag from the corner. The romper she had bought _was_ cute, in a soft shade of grey with blue stripes and a cartoonish dog on the front that looked a little like Snowball.

“It would never do in the Capitol, naturally.” Elindra sighed. “But I thought it would be acceptable around here. And you like this puppy of yours so much…”

She wouldn’t be satisfied until Effie agreed to check the living-room.

Her heart was racing and she felt dizzy as they walked out of the kitchen. She wished for Haymitch’s steadying presence but when she faltered in the hallway, it was Elindra who grabbed her wrist and urged her own, not really giving her a choice in the matter.

The scene from that night was so frozen in her memory it was almost disconcerting to walk in and found an entirely different room.

Gone were the blood puddles and the broken coffee table… Gone was the furniture that had been in Haymitch’s house for as long as she could remember… Gone were the additions she had carefully made since she had moved in…

She had expected _capitol magnificence_ and she had been wrong.

The place _did_ look cozy, as Peeta had said. One of the walls had been painted brown, the others were a creamy white that made the room brighter. The old TV was gone, a flat screen was now mounted on top of the fireplace, hovering over matching framed pictures of her, Haymitch and the children.

Brand new white couches, with an assortment of grey and black pillows, formed a L, one of them lining the window and the other facing the fireplace where a fire was roaring, making the place inviting. There was a light grey plushy rug that matched the curtains’ color under a large round glass coffee table with a vase full of multicolored flowers. Tall wooden bookshelves painted in the same creamy white at the walls were lining the brown wall, stocked with Haymitch’s books and decorative trinkets. Two comfortable looking leather armchairs were facing each other not too far from them, dividing the room between a corner meant for reading and what Effie supposed to be the _entertainment_ area.

There was also a footrest on which a white fluffy blanket had been thrown, a new large grey dog bed in the space between the end of the couch and the wall, not far from the fireplace, and numerous bright colorful paintings on the walls – some of which she knew to be Peeta’s and others she suspected had been shipped straight out of the Capitol and were probably worth more than the entire house.

It was _nothing_ like what she had expected, _nothing_ her mother usually went for in home designing, and everything _she_ loved. It reminded her a little of her apartment – although she would have used more colors and less neutral grey, white and brown.

It was so different than what it used to be though… It took her breath away. It didn’t look like the same room at all and, most of all, she could see herself living in there with Haymitch.

And, above it all, it was almost _impossible_ to tell where precisely her encounter with Clay had happened in the room. She had been afraid of the smallest thing triggering a flashback but every last possible reminder had been carefully wiped out. 

“How…” she breathed out.

“I _do_ know a thing or two about you.” her mother huffed. “Come sit down. You have had enough emotions today. You should rest.”

Once again, she let herself be guided, sinking on the couch with delight.

“I love it.” she declared. “Thank you, Mother.”

“You are very welcomed.” Elindra soberly answered, looking very pleased. “You father sent a few books along.” She waved at one of the bookshelves that was full of ancient looking leather bound volumes. “Your victor looked over the moon. Why, men and their rare books… I cannot say I see the appeal.”

“You could stop calling him _my victor_ , you know.” she suggested.

Elindra hummed and switched topics, babbling about how Effie should add some touches of colors here and there since she was so fond of it.

They spent a pleasant day and, of all the things peace had brought, that one was the most surprising to Effie: the fact that she, at long last, could spend time with her mother without feeling like less than she was.

When Haymitch finally came home, the children and the puppy in tow, he froze on the living-room’s  threshold at finding her there, prompting everyone else to freeze too like goslings following their mother.

Haymitch and Elindra exchanged an unreadable look. He nodded, she nodded back with a pleased _I told you so_ expression on her face – and Effie decided she was better off not knowing.

Nobody made a fuss about her being downstairs, they all acted as if nothing ordinary had happened, and Effie soon relaxed.

It was nice to have dinner with everyone instead of eating alone in her room.

It was nice to be with her family.

“Thank you.” she whispered again to her Mother as they said their goodnights. “For everything.”

Elindra shot her a small smile that looked a little tense, as if she wasn’t entirely sure how to _genuinely_ smile anymore, and brushed the back of her hand against Effie’s cheek before whirling around and marching to the study turned guest room with all the poise of a lady.

Effie stood there and stared after her for the longest time before slowly pressing the tips of her fingers to the cheek Elindra had just stroke.

“Everything’s okay?” Haymitch asked carefully, leaning against the wall a few feet behind her, hands buried deep in his pocket.

“She never did that before.” she confessed in a whisper. She headed to the stairs, letting her hand trail on his chest on the way to let him know she was alright. “It simply never occurred to me that by having a child I would finally get a mother too.”

Haymitch’s grey eyes tracked her every move, probably not quite sure if she was upset or not.

She wasn’t.

She had never thought a baby would fix _everything_ but it seemed like their child would certainly fix _some_ things. 


	21. Twenty-Five Weeks

Haymitch deepened the kiss, doing his best to ignore the flickering lights and the high-pitched voice coming from the kitchen where Elindra was trying to get through her phone call despite the statics on the line. He would grant that to the Capitol woman, the couch she had picked was _very_ comfortable – and perfect for making-out.

“Are you trying to give my mother a scare?” Effie chuckled against her lips. “Horrify her into leaving the house?”

“Maybe.” he snorted, before kissing her again.

Not that it would do any good right now.

They had tried to put Elindra on a train three days earlier but the station had been closed in anticipation of the snowstorm that was supposed to hit Twelve. It had finally reached them that morning. They had woken up to a world of immaculate white, snowflakes slamming down from the sky, and no hope of safely getting out of the house, not even to reach the kids’.

Haymitch had never minded being snowed in. The house was stocked with wood, the fireplace would be more than enough if electricity failed – and from past experience and given the flickering lights, he _knew_ electricity _would_ fail – and they had enough food to last them a month. It also assured a certain tranquility he usually enjoyed.

Now though not only did he have a pregnant woman and a restless puppy on his hands, he also had a Capitol woman he couldn’t run away from. Being locked in with Elindra Trinket _wasn’t_ fun. The house felt small, _terribly_ small. Even when he stuck to their bedroom with a book, he couldn’t help overhearing her talking downstairs – if Effie was loud, her mother was worse.

“She will be gone soon.” she promised, pecking his lips one more time before drawing back. “You have been very good with her. I… _Thank you_.”

He shrugged, preferring to leave that unanswered.

Truth be told, a part of him felt grateful for the woman’s presence. They could have managed without her, they always had, but… She had been helpful in a way. He would never have thought of completely redecorating the living-room to prevent any potential trigger, for instance. And whatever she had done to get Effie downstairs…

It had _gnawed_ at him to see Effie like that, the terror so obvious on her face. He hadn’t known what to do and hadn’t been able to stomach doing _nothing_. Peeta’s attempt had failed. He hadn’t wanted to argue with her again so he had kept his peace, choosing to give her space and time in the vague hope it would sort itself out… 

When Elindra had requested he left for the day, he hadn’t been sure. He didn’t trust the woman. Not only was she Capitol but he knew she had hurt Effie’s feelings in the past – something he had trouble forgiving. Whatever it was she had done though… It seemed to have worked.

Effie still spaced out sometimes and there were still nightmares but, for all intent and purposes, she was back to her usual self.

“I like the books your dad sent.” he said eventually, trying to find a positive spin to this invasion of their home. He was grateful to Elindra but he wouldn’t be sorry to see her leave, to get the house back, to go back to how things usually worked. Having the kids over, going to their house for dinner… Being _a family_ again. To her credit, her mother had tried to respect what they had going but she didn’t _fit in_.

“He will be glad.” Effie hummed, pressing against her back. She made a face. “Would you…”

“Yeah.” he sighed.

She flashed him a beaming smile and turned around so he could work on her back. She was growing huge. Well… Maybe not _huge_ but she was usually so tiny, she looked huge to him. And she had been tired for the past few days – one of the reasons why he was wary of the storm, because it meant they were cut off from any potential help they could need – her back particularly bothered her. He was rubbish at massages but it relieved her for a little while.

“I wish he wouldn’t kick so hard.” she complained, placing a hand on her belly.

“Maybe he’s impatient to get out.” he snorted.

“Well.” she huffed. “If he intends to act like _this_ for the next three months, I am impatient for him to get out too. So young and already so unruly. There are no doubts about who his father is.”

“Sure.” he taunted. “’Cause you’re _the soul_ of obedience.”

“I will have you know I am very well behaved and have always be very obedient.” she retorted.

“The things one must hear.” Elindra scoffed from the living-room’s threshold. Haymitch’s hand froze on Effie’s back, not sure how long she had been standing there. It must have been long enough because her face was schooled into her usual polite casualness. “You were _the most_ unruly child, Euphemia. _Quite_ the rebel. Whenever I said blue, you had to pick pink. You liked to contradict me just for the sake of it. _Oh_ , it used to drive me _crazy_.”

“Lyssa was always the good daughter.” Effie joked with obvious bitterness and he slowly went back to work, trying to relieve her aches. “I had to improvise.”

“You maneuvered behind my back to get hired as a model at seventeen, I remember.” her mother insisted, shaking her head. “I was _quite_ against it.”

“You did not think I would be successful and were afraid I would tarnish the family name.” she hummed and then chuckled without any amusement. “I suppose in the end your fears were justified.”

“I was simply wary of you getting hurt.” Elindra retorted. “There are some blows one’s pride does not recover from.” Effie turned her head to study her mother. They stared at each other for a while until the Capitol woman cleared her throat. “Is your back bothering you again? The heating patch was quite effective the other day, wasn’t it? I could fetch one for you, dear.”

“Later maybe.” Effie dismissed, clicking her fingers together. Snowball lifted his head from where he was slumbering in his bed and seemed to evaluate the distance and effort it would take to reach her. That puppy was spoiled and becoming lazy. “Come here, my pretty baby…”

The coaxing seemed to work. The dog paddled to the couch and then jumped up, curling into a ball in front of her and going right back to sleep with his head on her leg while she treaded her fingers in its fur.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward.

It was Haymitch’s turn to clear his throat. “So, what kind of rebel kid were you, sweetheart?”

“I was _hardly_ a rebellious child.” Effie huffed.

“Come on, there must be funny stories…” he insisted, seeking Elindra’s gaze. Maybe he should have dropped it, let them deal with their own business but they had been doing better and he was kind of curious about her childhood.

“She _did_ convince the hairdresser to dye her hair pink when I specifically wanted it purple.” her mother sighed. “She was eight but she already had a gift for convincing people to do her binding.”

“You had her fired.” Effie countered.

“ _Of course_ , I had her fired. I left very specific instructions and they were _not_ met.” Elindra waved a dismissive hand. “I believe _you_ learned a very valuable lesson that day, though.”

“I learned to be more cunning.” she snorted.

“ _As I_ _said_.” her mother insisted. “A _valuable_ lesson. When you started smocking behind my back at fifteen, you were smart enough _not_ to get caught.”

Effie frowned. “How do you…”

“Oh, _please_.” Elindra scoffed. “Did you truly think I did not know?”

“Lyssa told you the cigarettes were hers.” she exclaimed defensively.

“ _Very noble_ of your sister.” the Capitol woman smiled. “But _utterly_ ridiculous. Unlike you, Lyssa is not gifted for games of deception.”

Effie shrugged his hands off. “Are those stories funny enough for you?”

“I’m in stitches.” he deadpanned, reaching out for her again, focusing on her lower back.

That time, he didn’t try to lighten the weird mood.

Elindra breathed out a small sigh and flashed them a polite smile. “I will retire for the night.”

“Night.” Haymitch said automatically, a little too happy to be rid of her probably. Effie remained silent. Elindra waited for a second or two and then left the room. He heard the soft click of the study turned guest room’s door getting shut a moment later. “That was harsh.”

“Don’t you _dare_ judge.” she hissed.

“Not judging, sweetheart.” he shrugged. “Just thought you were getting along better, that’s all.”

Her whole body tensed and he thought she might bolt away. She relaxed against his chest instead and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing an instinctive soothing kiss against her shoulder.

“We are.” she said softly. “Talking about the past though… We will never raise our child like I was raised. Promise me.”

“Promise.” he granted easily. It hadn’t been his plan to give their kid a Capitol upbringing anyway.

“He will be whoever he wants to be.” she hummed, guiding his hands on her belly, where the baby was kicking the hardest. “We won’t force him to play a role. He will be _free_.”

He kissed her neck, under her jaw, gently rubbing her stomach.

Their son _would_ be free. There would be no threat of arenas dangling over his head nor the looming shadow of the mines… Twelve was a different place now. _Panem_ was a different place. Everything was possible. Everyone could be whatever they wanted to be.

He would have _killed_ to have that opportunity in his youth. For him. For his brother…

“He could go to an university.” he mused out loud.

It had been a long buried secret yearning of his in his youth… He had always been curious, thirsty for knowledge of all kind… The schools in Twelve had always taught the basics and hardly more and his attendance hadn’t been stellar. He had made his own education afterwards, in the long days after his Games that the booze alone couldn’t fill. He had read every book he had been able to put his hands on: philosophy, history, politics, biographies, novels…

There were only a few universities and they were all in the Capitol. But by the time their son would be old enough maybe… Panem was morphing so fast, he was sure there would be other places to go in closer Districts.

“If he wishes to.” she hummed, turning her head to nuzzle his neck. “Should we sleep down here?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, reaching out for the blanket folded on the footrest and tossing it on her. They always did that when the blizzard was too strong… It was better in case the electricity, and thus the heating, gave in. It was warmer closer to the fireplace. They settled on the couch, on their sides, spooning – once again, he was glad Elindra had good tastes in couches. His mind kept wandering though and he couldn’t quite drift off. “He knows how to suck his thumb by now… I’ve read that in the books.”

“Yes?” He could hear the grin in her voice. “I love him _so badly_ already… I am afraid of what I will feel when I hold him in my arms. It might be too much.”

“Won’t be.” he denied. “Won’t _ever_ be too much.”

“Katniss is already planning on teaching him how to hunt.” she chuckled. “And Peeta… Peeta is eager to teach him how to paint with his fingers… They will make such a mess…”

He smirked against her hair, amused at the kids’ eagerness. It was one of the reasons he knew they would be alright with a baby. The kids would help. He wasn’t sure how everything would work out but he knew it _would_.

“New name ideas?” he asked because she spent most of her time the nose in those books, making list after list. _Researching_ , as she called it. They weren’t having much luck on that front though.

So far, the shrimp was still _the shrimp_.

“I thought maybe Ilario. It means cheerful.” she told him. “Although given how much he is kicking me, I am not sure we should encourage him to _be_ cheerful.”

“Ilario.” he repeated. It wasn’t the worst she had offered. He still ended up making a face. “No. He’s not an Ilario.”

“Somehow, I knew you would say that.” she chuckled. “Your turn, then.”

“Devin.” he suggested.

“Not refined enough.” she declared. And he wasn’t any more surprised by her refusal than she had been by his. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

“Maybe when he’s born.” he joked. Or maybe they could just stick to _shrimp…_

They fell asleep slowly, lulled by the irregular popping of the logs in the fireplace and the hissing of the wind outside. Haymitch never quite managed to completely surrender to slumber though, the blizzard was making a racket, sometimes rattling the blinds, keeping him on edge. Effie didn’t have that problem, she was out cold, her face tucked in the crook of his elbow, sometimes letting out a soft groan when he felt the baby kick under his palm.

It really seemed like that child couldn’t stand still.

He was startled from his dozing by noises in the kitchen, quiet banging that couldn’t have been the wind. He knew that, logically, it could only be _one_ person given that Snowball was sprawled on their feet, absolutely not alarmed, but his sleepy mind wouldn’t accept that at face value.

He needed to be _sure_ that Effie and the baby were safe.

He needed to be sure it wasn’t another mad man eager to kill his family.

He needed to be _sure_.

Extricating himself from the couch without waking Effie up or making any noise was very difficult and not helped in any way by Snowball’s whimper of protest. The dog immediately took the warm spot he had vacated. He tried not to be jealous at being so easily replaced when Effie rolled over and wrapped her arm around the puppy but he couldn’t help a smirk. They were _cute_.

The floor was cold under his sock-clad feet and he tried not to hiss when he left the floorboards for the even colder tiles of the kitchen.

As he had thought, there was no burglar, just Elindra, wrapped in a newly-purchased woolen dressing gown – she had complained about the plain colors in Twelve’s shop for forty-five minutes at dinner the other night, leaving him and Katniss to exchange fed up looks while Peeta and Effie commiserated – fumbling with the steaming kettle.

He almost took a step back when he actually saw her face. He didn’t know if it was the harsh neon light or the fact that it was bare of any make-up but it was… _horrible_. The numerous plastic surgeries had given her skin an unnatural aspect that didn’t quite manage to hide how old it was, it looked thin and stretched to its extreme limit to avoid lines. She had next to no eyebrows to speak off, either waxed away or bleached, he wasn’t sure, her eyes looked ridiculously small and lost in the washed-out paleness of her complexion. Her loose turquoise dyed hair framed her face, some strands loosely curling at the edge in a way that reminded him of Effie’s.

“Oh, dear!” Elindra exclaimed, turning her back on him to better hide herself. “I did not expect… I did not think…”

“Sorry.” he winced even though they were in _his_ kitchen and he shouldn’t have had to apologize. “Heard a noise. Wanted to check.” In retrospect, it was probably a good thing the generator chose that moment to stop working. The lights flickered once and then snuffed out at the same time as any appliance in the house. Elindra let out another alarmed gasp, as if the thought of finding herself without electricity was absolutely unconceivable. “Bound to happen.” he grumbled, heading for the dresser’s drawer. He didn’t like the dark, not to say he _hated_ it. Ghosts lurked in the darkness. He didn’t need to see to orientate himself in his kitchen though. He found the drawer and the perfumed candles Effie kept there before making his way to the counter where they kept the matches. It took him a few minutes to have three candles lit and reeking of chemical vanilla. Better than darkness though. “Blow them out when you’re done, yeah? Can’t really afford a fire right now.”

He turned around, eager to get back to the couch and Effie’s warm body, but her voice stopped him before he could even reach the table. “Would you care for some tea?”

Again, he had to swallow back the urge to tell him they were in _his_ _fucking_ _kitchen_ and that she was offering him some of _his own fucking tea_.

She was obviously taking pain to be _polite_ though, for Effie’s sake. And, truth be told, it was freezing and he wasn’t sleeping anyway so he could have done with some tea. “Sure, if you can find the chamomile stuff.” 

She lifted her non-existent eyebrows and rummaged in the tea box until she found the bag he was requesting. Her face wasn’t any less scary in the candlelight.

For the first time, Haymitch understood why Effie had always been so reluctant about being seen without make-up and wig back in the days, why it wasn’t socially acceptable for Capitols to show themselves without artifices… When people looked like _that_ …

It was so… _unnatural_.

“I would not have pegged you for a chamomile drinker.” Elindra ventured, pouring water into two different mugs. “Although I do not suppose I ever pictured you drinking anything other than alcohol.”

The gibe didn’t hurt one bit.

He was a drunk – always would be, even sober – it wasn’t something he was deluding himself upon.

“Helps me sleep.” he muttered, choosing not to address the other issue. He snatched the mug and added sugar, picking up a teaspoon from the dish rack to stir it. He _fully_ intended to bring his tea back to the living-room.

“Do you know I _never_ had to boil water _myself_ before coming here?” Elindra hummed, fixing her own tea to her taste. “Being in Twelve has been _quite_ the experience. I cannot say I will mind going back to civilization though. I do not know how Effie manages on a day to day basis. This District lacks _so_ _much_ … I cannot imagine why it did not modernize more during the rebuilding…”

They modernized _plenty_. Twelve kept evolving. It had barely anything in common with what he remembered from his youth. The discrepancy between the Seam and the town had disappeared, it was more homogeneous now. There were so many shops they didn’t need, a clinic, the factory… Of course, they didn’t have the fancy showers with perfumed water, the huge screens in the streets or the housemaids and butlers so many Capitols favored…

But Twelve wasn’t just a dead pit anymore.

There was no more coal dust dancing in the air, no more people slaving themselves off in the mines to feed their family and coughing theirs lungs out as a result… People weren’t starving. People weren’t scared of the white uniforms patrolling the streets. People didn’t have to risk getting whipped for a stroll in the woods.

“It has the essential.” he growled, almost a warning. “We’re happy here.”

_She’s happy here,_ he didn’t say. He didn’t need to. It was implied.

Elindra leaned her hip against the counter – stepping back into the shadow a little, clearly not keen on anyone seeing her like that – absent-mindedly stirring her tea. “Yes. I saw.”

Uncomfortable with the reluctant acceptance in her voice, he took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue in the process. He longed to escape but didn’t quite dare. It was new, this uncertainty. He had never played nice with Capitols before, had never cared enough to _try_ really… And, given the choice, he would have liked to keep his world separated from Effie’s relatives.

It was different now, though, because it wouldn’t be _just_ the two of them anymore. He had no right and no intention to keep his child from his grandparents as reticent as he was about letting _Capitols_ into their lives. The shrimp would only have one set of those, after all.

“I suppose I should thank you.” she offered with some bitterness. “I expected you to be a lot more _difficult_ about my presence here. I expected… I did _not_ expect you to be as _gracious_ about my visiting as you have been.”

He pondered his words carefully. “It’s her house too and you’re her mother.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped greater men from forbidding me entrance.” she remarked.

“Yeah, well… I lost mine. I know what it’s like to miss your mother. _You_ ’re not dead, so… If she wants to reconnect, I won’t stop her.” he shrugged, staring at the flickering light of one of the candles. “Not any of my business anyway.”

“I sense a _but_.” she probed, taking a sip of her tea.

He clicked his tongue against his cheek in annoyance, meeting her eyes in the semi-darkness. “ _But_ you better not hurt her this time around ‘cause I’ve picked her up after you’ve kicked her down too many times. I’m not sure how many more heartbreak she can take.”

She maintained eye contact for a few seconds and then turned her head away, her lips pursed in a severe pout. “You seem to think I take _pleasure_ in causing her pain. I _won’t_ deny I hurt her feelings in the past _nor_ do I feel I should apologize for it. Everything I _ever_ did was meant to assure her happiness in the long term.”

“Tough love.” he scowled.

He knew everything he needed to know about how Elindra had put Effie down at every given opportunity. He knew because the rare times she had met her family during the Games, she had always come back to the penthouse upset and eager to _fuck_ her brain out, almost begging for him to tell her she was beautiful. He knew because it was at the core of who she used to be, the reason why she had been so thirsty for fame in the first place, and the key to unlocking the true Effie under the escort’s mask.

He had met her when she was twenty-three and she had been so _desperate_ to prove a point back then, to show the world she was _it_ …

The world or _her mother_ , but it had taken him a while to figure that out.

He had thought she was like the rest of them back then. Shallow, clueless, empty-headed… And she _had been_ mostly… Until she had opened her eyes…

“Perhaps.” Elindra granted softly. “Lyssandra has always been the beauty, you know, but Effie… Effie was _quick_ in a way her sister never was. It is never good for anyone to be too bright in the Capitol, not with a heart like _hers_ , at least. It is… _dangerous_.” She shook her head. “You are not a parent yet. You do not understand the choices one has to make to insure their children are _safe_. You think I was harsh on Euphemia and I _was,_ harsher than I was on her sister certainly… But Lyssa was _made_ for the life she was born to, she never _questioned_ anything. Effie… She _questioned_. She wanted to be more, to _do_ more… She was never meant for _greatness_ anyway, that was just a fanciful dream of hers. All I ever wanted was for her to have the best she could have, to be _safe_ …”

He clenched his jaw and brought the mug to his lips, _forced_ himself to wash the bad taste in his mouth with a gulp of scalding tea.

“I can get that.” he muttered eventually, thinking back to the Quell and everything he had kept from Katniss and Peeta. To protect them, yes, even if they would have ended up hating him later on, but also ultimately knowing it wasn’t the right thing to do. They could have handled it, he figured. _Peeta,_ at least, could have handled it. Katniss… Katniss had always been a powder keg. She was a coin you tossed in the air, there was no way of predicting on which side she would land. He understood her better than most but he had known, even then, letting her know wasn’t the best idea. _Later_ , he had thought again and again _,_ later he would tell her everything. Until it had been too late and the decision had been out of his hands.

“Can you?” she snorted. “Because Euphemia hates me for it.”

Just like Katniss had hated him.

Just like Peeta had resented him.

But it was _different_. He had lied about the rebellion but he had never lied about the rest. He had never put the kids down, had never mocked Peeta’s baking or painting, had never belittled Katniss for her hunting…

There was _protecting_ and _nurturing_ and the two weren’t mutually exclusive.

“Well, you _did_ tell her to get lost.” he sneered. “After the war. You…”

“Yes.” she cut him off, terse. “I did.”

“Don’t get how you can do _that_.” he snarled. “Toss your kid away like… She’s your _daughter_. How do you look your daughter in the eyes and told her to _fuck off_ ‘cause your reputation’s more _important_ than she is?” He saw the shame flash clearly over her face in the soft glow of the candle but it was quickly hidden behind a haughty expression he didn’t care for. He scoffed. “ _Fuck_ that. She needed you and you let her down.”

“Are you in any position to cast blame?” she retorted. “You weren’t in the Capitol at the time either, I do believe. You _left_ her behind.”

“Difference is, I _had_ to and she knows that.” he snapped. “I would have stayed in that _fucking_ city if that was what she had wanted and if I had had a choice. I had to go for Katniss and she had to stay for Peeta. The kids had to come first.”

“Yes, they always do, don’t they?” she hummed, sounding strangely puzzled by that. “I never thought she would last in Twelve. I thought she would come back to us, lesson learned. I thought…” She waved a dismissive hand, her eyes suspiciously shiny in the glow of the candle. “It does not matter what I thought. I was wrong.”

“Of course, she was going to stay here.” It was almost a taunt and it was unfair because he hadn’t been sure at the time either. They had shared phone calls during the year she had spent in the Capitol but she had never hinted at moving out of the city despite the numerous invitations he had extended for her to visit the children – and him. “We’re her _family_.”

“And what does that make _us_ , then, pray tell?” she replied harshly. She breathed out a long sigh and clicked her tongue. “No matter. The past is in the past. Things are different now, _will be_ different. Let bygones be bygones.” Her voice became a little anxious. “You won’t oppose us seeing the child, will you? You have been… Like I said, you have been _gracious_ about our involvement so far but we have _not_ been the most supportive of your relationship with our daughter and…”

“Understatement.” he snorted and then let out a sigh of his own. “Look…” The words felt like ash in his mouth but his decision about that had been made the moment Effie had made it clear she wanted to reconnect with her parents. “As far as I’m concerned and as long as it’s alright with Effie, you’re family to that kid.”

“Thank you.” Elindra breathed out with palpable relief.

“ _But_.” he added. “My child won’t go through what Effie did. You won’t put him down even if it’s for what you think is his own good. You won’t sneer at him ‘cause his father’s a District drunk. You _will_ treat him right or you won’t see him ever again. You can’t _fuck_ him up with your twisted Capitol games. It’s gonna be straightforward. That’s the deal.”

“Yes.” she said at once, as if she truly didn’t expect that much.

He wondered what tales she had constructed in her mind about him all those months since Effie had definitely left the Capitol. What had she been imagining? That he kept Effie prisoner? That he tyrannized her with his _uncivilized barbaric tendencies_?

“I ain’t a… I ain’t a _monster_.” he spat because he felt he needed to. _Not like that anyway_ , he added in the privacy of his own mind. “I know I’m not what you wanted for her. I know she deserves better, too.  But she’s…” He faltered, at a loss for words, not comfortable expressing his feelings on the best day and certainly not faced with a virtual stranger for whom he had mixed feelings. It wasn’t that he cared for her parents’ approval but… When he thought about the kids, about the shrimp… If he were them, _he_ would like to know that… “I want her to be _happy_. I want her to…”

“You love her, yes.” Elindra clarified, putting him out of his stuttering misery. “Her father thinks she could have done a lot worse than you, that despite the obvious downsides, you are a good and clever man. I must say I remained unconvinced it wouldn’t have been better for everyone involved if she had chosen a wealthy Capitol man with the right pedigree.” She snorted before he could argue his point and ask about the past tense. Didn’t she think that any longer? “Well.. Better for everyone except Effie. She _does_ love you. And… _Despite_ my disinclination toward the match, I cannot deny you seem to be… _good_ for her. You are certainly a more devoted boyfriend than anyone she could have found in the Capitol. None of them would know how to handle those… _moods_ of hers.”

He figured she was referring to the PTSD.

“She’s doing better.” he growled defensively.

“And she made it _perfectly_ clear to me several times that it was only thanks to you.” she argued. “Do not fret so, Haymitch. The time for disapproval has passed. For better or worse, you are the father of my grandson anyway. Now if you would just _marry_ my daughter and make the whole thing _proper_ …”

He rolled his eyes and finished his tea in two longs mouthfuls. The tiles were too cold and he couldn’t really feel his toes anymore.

“Yeah, well…” he scoffed. “I’ll work on that.” He _wanted_ to, all the more so given that she was carrying his child, but every time he hinted at the subject, Effie deflected. She had put it inside her head that he only wanted to marry her because of the kid – and as much as it was a big factor in the decision, it wasn’t _all_ about that – and wouldn’t hear about it. He placed the now empty mug in the sink and rubbed his hands together to warm them. “’Night, Mrs Trinket.”

It felt odd to call her by such a formal name when they had been living under the same roof for a couple of weeks now but she had never offered the use of her first name and he tended not to call her at all if he could help it.

“Mother.” she said, placing her own empty mug on the counter.

He frowned, watching her blow out the first candle – vaguely wondering if it was wise to let her go near a flame given that her face was so full of plastic. “What?”

She snuffed the second candle and he couldn’t quite see her in the dark anymore, he could barely guess at her shape.

“ _Mother_ is the proper form of address for one’s mother-in-law in our social circle.” she declared. “You shall call me Mother.”

_No_ , was his immediate reaction. He had one mother, the fact that she was dead didn’t change anything. He had one mother and she wouldn’t be replaced by a Capitol half made of plastic, even if it was in title only.

“I can call you Elindra.” he bargained.

“You _could_ , yes. However that is the form of address reserved to _friends_.” she dismissed. “You are _family_ now. I _insist_ on propriety. It might not mean much to you but it does to us. I shall call you _Haymitch_ to please my daughter and you shall call me _Mother_ for the very same reason. We are not each other’s first choice but we will compose for Effie’s sake. Now. Goodnight, _Haymitch_.”

When she put it like that… Refusing would make him look like an ass – something he didn’t quite mind – but it might also result in a longer argument he wasn’t really up to at that moment. Effie would hear, a fight would stress her out and she wasn’t supposed to stress. Stress might trigger another bout of those Braxton X contractions…

“Goodnight.” he said again. “Mother.”

The word was strange, felt absolutely inappropriate and he hated every second of it.

Elindra, on the other hand, seemed pleased. She nodded once and then left the kitchen, looking for every purpose _regal_ , as if she owned the whole place.

He shook his head, blew out the last candle and decided he would pretend nothing had happened the next morning. It had obviously been one of those middle of the night discussions where people shared much more than they intended to.

Once back in the living-room, he stroke the fire, making sure it would keep on burning, then scooped the puppy up and placed it back in his own bed despite his displeased grumbling. Then, he slipped back on the couch, wriggling under the blanket, careful not to wake Effie.

Too little, too late.

“Is everything alright?” she mumbled, snuggling closer to him, letting out a hiss when her feet met his icy ones.

“I think your mother just adopted me.” he snorted. “Aside for that… Sure. _Peachy_.”

She opened heavy eyelids. “I beg your pardon?”

“She wants me to call her _Mother._ ” he muttered.

“Oh…” she hummed dismissively, tucking her head under his chin. “Well, you are her son-in-law, it is the proper form of address. Not offering would have been a slight. It is nice of her, actually. Goodnight.”

And, just like that, she went back to sleep.

_Capitols_ , he couldn’t help but think, _are_ _strange people_.

His half-cooked plan of pretending the whole thing had never happened was short lived because Elindra made it clear in the following days that she intended to be addressed _properly_ and, since she made a point of being polite and calling him by his name at every opportunity, he had no choice but to answer in kind or risk Effie’s wrath.

When the storm finally calmed down enough to allow them out, the first thing he did was take Snowball for a walk in the woods – where he met Katniss who looked far too smug when she asked him if he had managed not to murder his _mother-in-law_.

He was still relieved when the train station reopened and Elindra eagerly boarded the first train that would take her back to the Capitol. It was even funny to watch, really, because Effie went for a hug that her mother suffered for thirty seconds before chiding her about public effusions, prompting him to hug the woman for _much_ longer _just_ to see her turn red with embarrassment.

“You are a mean man.” Effie grinned, waving as the train left the station.

“Don’t you just love it, sweetheart…” he teased.

Her laughter echoed in the nearly deserted station.

To him, there was no sweetest sound.  


	22. Twenty-Seven Weeks

Effie passed her hand on the neatly folded piles of rompers, pants and little sweaters she had just placed in the brand new white dresser. They were starting to have a real collection of them but nowhere near enough in her opinion, the two piles looked small and lost in the big drawer. She was eager to go on a shopping spree but found herself hindered by the still deep coat of snow. Reaching the train station to see her mother off two weeks earlier had almost been too much for her, she had slept for hours afterwards.

People brought her clothes though, as well as stuffed animals or colorful toys… Eileen had brought a darling little elephant with a blue bowtie… _So_ _soft_ … She had placed it on the shelf Haymitch had screwed in a couple of days earlier along with a few other toys. The rag doll Haymitch had bought for her, the one he had brought to Four with him, was proudly displayed on the dresser for the time being. She liked touching it when her nerves played tricks on her. It calmed her down, reminded her they were in this together, that they _could_ do it.

The nursery was finally taking form.

The dresser, the baby-changing table, a baby carrier that had been left in the corner for now, soft rugs and lovely little curtains, a rocking chair, shelves that were still mostly empty… She loved the cartoon animals Peeta had painted for their son…

She knew they had time yet, she had barely started her seventh month, but with the beginning of the third trimester, she was starting to fret again.

“We need to baby proof the house.” she declared. They needed to make sure plugs would be safe, kitchen drawers would remain shut, that no little hands would close on sharp objects or little lips swallow something vile… They would need a gate for the stairs and _so many other things_ …

“By _we_ , you mean _me_.” Haymitch snorted from where he was sitting on the floor, trying to piece the crib together.

There had been a long and heavy debate about cribs. Effie had wanted two. One for the nursery and one for their bedroom because it had seemed logical to her that a baby would require a lot of coming and going at night at first and it seemed stupid to actually _get up_ who knew how many times every night – all the more so given that _she_ would end up having to be the one to get out of bed since she would be the food source. Haymitch had absolutely refused the idea of a crib in the bedroom, arguing that the baby would get used to it and then they would have all the pain in the world getting him used to sleeping alone in his room.

At which point the actual idea of _being separated_ from her child even if it was by a corridor had been too much and she had started to cry.

Haymitch’s face at that moment had been almost comical.

It was exhaustion mostly. She was suffering from bouts of restlessness followed by hours when her whole body felt heavy and tired and all she could do was nap or lie on the couch like the big whale she was in danger of becoming.

Everyone told her it was normal but she was still anxious.

She wanted everything to be ready, she _needed_ everything to be ready. It didn’t matter that they had three months left.

“You will be the hands and I will be the brain.” she teased.

“Sure, sweetheart. Keep telling yourself that.” He rolled his eyes. “Sit down, yeah? You’ve been on your feet for a while.”

She pursed her lips at that deflection but snatched the notepad from where she had left it on the floor – not without a lot of difficulties because her belly was big – and settled on the rocking-chair. She added _baby proofing_ to her long list.

Eileen said she was nesting, that it was normal.

She _deeply_ resented the implication that she was acting like a poultry of some kind but couldn’t deny the truth of that statement.

During their last phone call, Lyssa had laughed at her complaining nothing was ready and had told her what she truly needed to get ready for was the birth, that there was a reason she had chosen to use a surrogate for her second pregnancy. Her sister had meant nothing by it, it was an innocent joke, but it had sent Effie in a state.

She hadn’t really thought about the actual birth yet. The _aftermath_ , yes… Holding her baby, probably crying a lot out of relief at finally having him in her arms… But the actual birth was a sort of limbo she had been happy not to consider.

_Reading chapters about delivery_ was somewhere on her list, between _getting a diaper bag_ and _buy more lotion_ because she was running low and she was very invested in avoiding stretch marks. Haymitch _loved_ helping her in that endeavor even though it had less to do with what she would look like once she wasn’t pregnant anymore and more to do with rubbing cream all over her. It was alright with her, her belly was a hindrance now and they needed to be creative where sex was concerned.

“So, I was thinking…” he continued distractedly as he screwed together two pieces of white wood. She wanted to tell him to be careful with the paint but knew it would end up with a rant about how he could _still_ put furniture together without making a mess, _thank you very much Effie_. “How about Silas?”

_Finding a name_ was at the top of her list, underlined twice and circled three times. She had notepads _filled_ with potential names. The problem was, they didn’t seem to be able to _agree_ on _any_.

“Silas.” she repeated, testing it out. She imagined herself calling her little boy on the playground and wrinkled her nose. “Why not Chryses? It means _golden_. I knew a Chryses, very good name…” He tossed her _a look_ and she rolled her eyes, rubbing her belly. “Daddy doesn’t want you to have a pretty name, baby. He wants to call you _shrimp_ all your life.”

“I want him to have a _good_ name, a _solid_ name.” he grumbled. “And you and I don’t have the same definition of _pretty_.”

She rocked slowly, drawing soothing circles on her belly, humming the tune Haymitch had taught her. _Learning nurse rhymes and lullabies_ were on her list too but for now she was content with only that one. A part of her was impatient for that moment when she would sit there with her baby cradled close to her chest, rocking him to sleep. Another part of her was terrified.

“ _Hush little baby, don’t you cry_ …” she sang softly when she felt their son stir a bit too violently. He would kick her bladder again and she would have to rush to the bathroom and she was tired of that happening. “ _Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...”_

She did have the best voice from the two of them but she couldn’t help a soft smile when Haymitch absentmindedly picked up the tune, so focused on what he was doing with that crib she hardly thought he was aware of even singing.

_“If that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a golden ring…”_  The crib was _finally_ starting to look like a crib and he frowned, testing it by pushing down a little. “ _And if that golden ring turns to brass, Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass_. _And if that looking glass gets broke, Papa’s gonna buy you a billy goat…_ ” More like a pack of geese, she thought, as he distractedly went on with the song up until the crib looked done and secured and he reached out for her, brushing his knuckles against the swell of her stomach. _“And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the sweetest baby in town_.”

“I love you.” she grinned. “And you are _cute_.”

“I’m not!” he sputtered.

“Oh, yes, you _are_ …” she insisted, her grin only deepening when the tip of his ears and the back of his neck started reddening. “You will be a doting father…”

“I’ll count myself lucky if the kid doesn’t end up hating me.” he mumbled, turning away from her.

“If he ends up hating one of us, it won’t be _you_.” she whispered, averting her eyes. They fell on the cat rag doll on the dresser, on the embroidered _I love my mommy_ that she used as a reminder, and she forced a cheer in her voice. “ _Now_ , are you one hundred percent certain the crib won’t collapse?”

“No. I thought our boy would like it better if it broke.” he deadpanned. “More fun.”

She whacked him with her notepad. “I am serious.”

“Well, so am I.” he scoffed, testing the crib’s resistance by placing his heavy tool box in it. “See? It holds.”

She pursed her lips. “This box is filthy. Nothing filthy gets near my son. That includes your birds, by the way.”

“My birds _aren’t_ filthy.” he argued. “And what about your dog? He _fucking_ jumped in a puddle of mud this morning, you’ve seen the state of him?”

She had. Which was why he had been exiled to the backyard for the time being even though it meant the geese honked twice more as usual. She was hoping playing in the snow would wash some of the mud away.

“Snowball is not _my_ dog.” she huffed. “I am not the one who was begging for a puppy like a five years old.”

“But you’re the one who _corrupted_ him with your _pretty baby_ bullshit.” he accused. “You made him a mama’s boy.”

“Oh, are we _jealous_ , Haymitch?” she teased, cooing a little. She trapped his arm in hers and pressed a kiss on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of the woods that clung to the wool from his morning walk with Snowball.

“You stole my dog.” he muttered with a pout.

“I thought it was _my_ dog.” she taunted but shook her head. “Do not be ridiculous. Snowball loves you.”

“Maybe.” he mumbled, burying his hands in his pockets. “But give him a choice and he will stay with you.”

“Because I am pregnant and he feels it is his duty to guard me.” She gently bumped her belly with his side. “Don’t you think he _knows_?”

Dogs knew things. And they had the smartest puppy in Panem. Of course, he _knew_.

“Yeah.” Haymitch agreed, smirking a little. “You get once the shrimp’s here, it won’t be our dog anymore, yeah? I bet whatever you want, the puppy will be all over him.”

A puppy this size all over her baby didn’t seem safe but she kept her tongue on that front for now. They could always teach Snowball to be careful. The puppy was a fast learner.

“Are you ready to bet chocolate chipped mint ice cream with _maybe_ some whipped cream and a side of orange jam on grilled toasts?” she asked innocently. “ _Oh_ , and that hot chocolate with cinnamon they have at the coffee shop?”

“That’s _very_ specific, Princess.” he snorted. “Is that a random bet or is it your way of saying you’re having cravings again and I’m gonna have to rush all around town to get all that?”

She raised on tip toes to press two kisses on his cheek and one at the corner of his mouth. “Please, please, _please_?”

She was _dying_ for mint ice cream and hot chocolate. And toasts. With orange jam.

The cravings were hitting her late in the pregnancy, later than most women. They had been happening steadily for a week or so and if Haymitch had been amused at first by the few innocent requests during the day, he hadn’t been _so_ amused when she had pitched a tantrum at three am because she wanted strawberries and there were none to be found in the dead of winter.

He made a face. “That’s _a lot_ of sugar, sweetheart…”

“You kept saying I needed to fatten up.” she pointed out.

She was certainly fattened up now. Well… She still wasn’t huge by someone else’s standard but she was a tiny person and she felt like she was ready to explode. The fact that there were still three months to go was frightening.

“Yeah, put on some weight, _not_ give yourself diabetes…” he commented.

She couldn’t stop a flash of annoyance from passing on her face at getting denied. “The baby wants it.”

“The baby wants to be healthy.” he countered and, because she had let go of his arm and was now openly glaring, he lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Tell you what… You can have the ice cream and the hot chocolate but we drop the whipped cream and the jam.”

“I want the jam.” she growled. “On grilled toasts.”

Haymitch had never been good at admitting defeat but he knew for a fact she would brave the snow and trek into town herself if she had too. Cravings weren’t to be taken _lightly_.

“No whipped cream.” he insisted.

“Spoil joy.” she accused, pecking his mouth. “Hurry, I am _starving_.”

He rolled his eyes and breathed out a long suffering sigh to let her know just how impossible she was before stealing another kiss.

“You’ll be okay on your own?” he asked once they were downstairs and he was slipping on his coat. “I can stop by the kids’ and ask one of them to…”

“I will be fine.” she interrupted him firmly, as much to convince him as herself. She had hardly been left home alone since… Since _Clay_. “I am keeping Snowball anyway. He needs a bath.”

And she would be fine with her guard puppy. She had no doubt he would jump at the throat of anyone who would try to attack her.

“Don’t overdo it.” he warned.

The second he opened the back door, Snowball came rushing in, joyfully barking at being allowed back inside. She had to grab his collar to prevent him from running around. Even then, when he shook the water off his fur, he sent speckles _everywhere_. He was a mess of wet hair and tangled mud crusted fur.

“You are one _very_ disgusting puppy.” she chided him. “Jumping in a puddle of mud like a ruffian. I expect more distinguished behavior from you.” The rebuke flew high over his head. He barked, wriggling his tail left and right in excitement, his head nuzzling her hand, pleading to be petted. When he realized Haymitch was heading out, he tried to follow but she held fast.  “Ah. Ah.” She clicked her tongue. “Bad puppies don’t get to go out. Bad puppies get baths.”

“Can’t wait for you to give the same lecture to our kid, sweetheart.” Haymitch snorted as a goodbye.

Convincing Snowball to follow her upstairs wasn’t terribly difficult, neither was ordering him to hop in the bathtub. Haymitch had laughed at her and claimed she would make the puppy soft by pampering him like that, he had _mocked her_ when she had ordered boxes of dog shampoo from the city… But having made sure the dog accepted baths easily from the very first week had made it a lot easier to keep him clean.

He enjoyed it well enough even.

He had grown a lot in the eight weeks they had had him. He was bigger than most dogs one could find in the Capitol now.

It took her a good total of twenty minutes to clean him up, brush him, towel him and then blow dry his fur – easily his favorite part of the whole process, he liked to roll around while she did it.

She was _really_ yearning for mint ice cream and her hot chocolate by the time she was done but Haymitch still wasn’t back. She wandered upstairs, looking for something to do…

Her eyes fell on the attic trap almost by accident. She had never been up there yet. She wondered what Haymitch stocked there before her mind flashed to years of boxed clothes she had bought for him and he had deemed too ridiculous or fancy for Twelve – she had given him dozens of suits every Game season but he had only kept the other stuff around the house: the comfortable pants and sweaters, the sweatpants, the underwear and only a few good jackets. With nothing else to do and unable to keep her nesting tendencies under check, she opened the trap and climb the pull down ladder – harder than she had thought it would be.

She panted for a bit once at the top, sneezing because of the amount of dust she had disturbed. Stuck at the bottom of the ladder, Snowball whimpered and then lied down, resigning himself to wait for her.

She struggled to find the switch and made a face once the old bulb slowly flickered to life.

The attic was a mess, messier perhaps than the rest of the house had been when she had moved in. There were a lot of boxes haphazardly piled up, some weren’t even properly closed, the cardboard was wavy… There was a damp musty smell and she wondered if the roof was leaking in some places because some of the boxes were stained at the bottom…

A quick check confirmed that the closest boxes were full of mostly still good clothes. Some clips from newspapers and pictures had been crammed with the suits he hadn’t wanted, making it somehow easy to identify to which year the box belonged. As far as she could tell, there was a box for each of her years as his escort. Before her time, it seemed none of the clothes that he had been given had pleased him because there were at least four or five for each season and she gave up on sorting that halfway through. She _did_ find a picture of Haymitch and Chaff with their arms tossed around each other’s shoulders, grinning hard at the camera, looking not a breath older than twenty and twenty-five, that she pocketed absent-mindedly…

More interesting was the junk piled up at the far end of the mansard roof. She didn’t understand what it was at first, it was only when she walked closer, treading carefully because the floorboard was made of uneven rough planks, that she understood what she was looking at. Twisted metal and charred wood…

_Burned furniture_ …

Burned furniture that had been gathering dust in the attic for almost twenty-eight years.

She reached for the closest piece of wood and then thought better of it, not certain the whole thing wouldn’t crumble at the softest of touch.

She identified a couple of chairs, what looked like a metallic child-sized bed frame, a crudely carved rocking horse cut in half… The rest she couldn’t quite make out but she was certain it had belonged to a small house in the Seam once upon a time. Her eyes kept darting back to the destroyed rocking horse and she couldn’t help but blink back tears at the thought of what had happened to his owner.

Haymitch’s brother had only been eleven. He would have had her age nowadays.

She reached for her stomach but the baby was asleep now, which she regretted. The closest box to the furniture was also clearly the oldest in the room. The cardboard was pliant under her fingers, defeated by humidity. She sat down to better look inside.

It didn’t contain much.

A few forks and knives warped by the heat of the blaze that had swallowed the house, some equally distorted knick knacks and a few blackened books with missing pages, covers or spines. She wondered how all that stuff had ended up there and her heart bled at the thought of a lost sixteen year old Haymitch haunting the charred remains of his family’s house, picking up everything he could find and clinging to those odd mementoes.

Her apartment had been ransacked enough during the war that there hadn’t been much of anything left for her to find when she had finally been released from the rebels’ custody. She understood what it felt like to lose everything: your belongings, your keepsakes, _memories_ , objects that were sometimes the only thing you had left from someone now deceased… It had nearly destroyed her at thirty-five, she couldn’t imagine going through that at sixteen.

She shouldn’t have been going through those boxes. It was clear they hadn’t been touched in decades…

The next box she opened was from his old house too but more terrible in the sense that it was almost empty. She picked up a crumpled yellowish glassy paper before realizing it was a picture that had been half swallowed by the fire. Ironically enough, the only face that hadn’t melted on the picture was Haymitch’s – which was why it had been crumpled no doubt. He looked younger than she had ever seen him, around thirteen or fourteen maybe, _boyish_ still yet not quite carefree…

There was a metal box that looked rusty but untouched by the flames and absolutely too chiseled for something coming from Twelve. She turned it around, not quite surprised to find the mark of a now out of fashion Capitol jewelry maker underneath. She struggled to open it, not quite surprised either to find two rings in there. One was shaped like an iris and had probably been destined to the woman who shared the flower’s name. The other was plainer, a spiral of dozens of smaller diamonds, so obviously an engagement ring that it made her rub her belly again, too aware that in another life, things might have turned out very differently. She closed the metal box and placed it back down. Those were gifts that Haymitch had never had an opportunity to give…

She found various yellowed sheets of paper, half burned or torn away, pressed into an empty notebook. Numbers mostly, grocery lists, single words that made no sense without the context the missing parts would have afforded… It took her a minute to realize it was probably his mother’s handwriting. Likewise, she found a faded blue exercise book that had clearly belonged to his brother. _Hayden Abernathy_. The name was written on the inside in neat pointy letters.

She brushed the tips of her fingers against it, wishing with all her heart things had been different. No matter what it would have meant for the two of them… Haymitch would have been much happier not being _the example_. If he had only been allowed to keep his family…

She placed the exercise book aside and reached for the last item, an old warped tin can that might have belonged in a kitchen at some point. She opened it, expecting… _something_ , _anything_ … but not _ashes_.

She almost dropped the box.

“It’s not them.”

She startled and jumped, only managing by _sheer_ reflexes not to spill the contents of the box. She placed a hand on her chest, trying to convince her heart to stop hammering as she glared at Haymitch. 

“ _Do not_ creep up on me like that!” she snapped.

“I banged the door, the dog made a racket and I _fucking_ called you three times.” he snarled, just as irritated as she was. “What _the hell_ are you doing snooping around here anyway?”

Had he called her? She had been so wrapped up in this weird moment…

He was tense, in full fight or flight mode, and she licked her lips, her annoyance fading, knowing she needed to tread carefully.

“I was not _snooping_.” she denied.

“Could have fooled me.” he sneered.

“I apologize. I _truly_ did not mean to intrude. I just… I saw the boxes and… I didn’t realize what these ones were until I had opened them.” She put the lid back and cautiously placed the box down where she had found it before trying to get up – something far more difficult than it used to be.

He hauled her up with a hand at her elbow and the other under her armpit, his face unreadable.

“Your snack’s downstairs.” he told her and turned away without a single look for the burned mementoes of his past.

He went down first and made sure she walked down the ladder without problem but he didn’t say a word. She tried to lighten the mood once they were in the kitchen and she spotted the chocolate chipped mint ice cream, the orange jam and the steaming cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon branded with the Clarkes’ coffee shop logo, thanking him cheerfully by kissing the corner of his lips. He suffered the kiss but didn’t encourage her to do more or joke about how cheap a date she was.

He grabbed the second cup that had been abandoned on the counter and sipped from it, paying her no attention as he watched the backyard through the window over the sink. She could smell the rich flagrance of black coffee from where she was sitting but she didn’t complain, spooning some ice cream directly from the tub instead. His back was on her, tension obvious in the line of his shoulders, and she bore it as long as she could.

The clever approach would have been to drop the matter entirely, to pretend nothing had happened and let him come back to her on his own terms, once he would have calmed down. That was what she would have done a few months earlier, not force the issue in fear he would run away from her.

But since the baby…

They had been good at _talking_ the issues _through_ – well, maybe not _good_ but at least they had been _trying_. And that was a particular issue she had though he had laid to rest.

“Those ashes…” she ventured eventually.

“Told you. It’s not theirs.” he cut her off with a warning growl. “ _Probably_ not, anyway.”

“Haymitch…” she said, taking pain to keep her tone neutral.

“Their bodies were charred, alright?” he spat. “The mayor said… They buried little more than _bones_. I don’t know what I was thinking… I just grabbed what I could before they cleaned up to build another shack. And I thought… I thought… In the _off-chance_ that…”

The pain in his voice was much more than she could handle, the way it _broke_ even though it had been _decades_ …

She moved in a flash, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades. “I understand.”

He untangled himself from her arms and took his distance. “No, you _don’t_.” He shook his head. “You _don’t_.”

“Alright.” she offered, lifting both hands in a peaceful gesture because she could see he was getting worked up and because she wasn’t sure they hadn’t moved right out of _upset_ and right into _trigger_ territory. “I am sorry. I should _not_ have…” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” he sneered, rubbing his eyes. “I need some air.”

“You just came home.” she argued.

“You want me to spell it, fine, then I need some _space_.” he snapped.

He grabbed his coat and slammed the door and she was left staring at it, not sure if she should follow or not.

She just hoped he wouldn’t go straight for a bottle.

At some point, the children arrived for dinner but their happy chatter slowly vanished when they realized Haymitch wasn’t going to show up. She invented an excuse, something about someone needing his help with a fence – a ridiculous flimsy excuse they saw right through in about a minute – and declared they should eat without waiting for him.

By ten, he still wasn’t back and Peeta tactfully asked if she wanted him to look around for him – _at the bar_ was implied but not uttered.

“I am sure he is fine.” she promised again and again, to the children and then, once they had left, to the puppy and their unborn son.

She went ahead with her nightly routine, taking her time in the shower, hoping against all odds that he would be waiting for her in the bedroom when she would walk out of the bathroom. He still wasn’t back when she got into bed, so she exceptionally allowed Snowball to climb in with her, needing the cuddles the dog was always too happy to provide.

The baby was restless once more, having a mad party in her uterus, kicking and rolling.  

“Shh, he will come back…” she whispered, slipping a hand under her nightgown to stroke the tight skin of her belly. “That’s the thing about your father… He _always_ comes back. _Hush little baby don’t you cry…_ ”

She hoped to calm the baby but she ended up singing herself to sleep…

She felt the light touch of his fingers brushing her hair away from her face and her eyelids fluttered open. He was wandering around the room, trying not to wake her as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the drawer. A glance at the clock confirmed it was late, past midnight.

“Go back to sleep.” he muttered when he realized she was watching him.

“Did you drink?” she asked, unable to hold it up any longer, just as he lifted the covers up to get in bed.

He froze. “ _Seriously,_ Effie?”

It wasn’t such a stupid question in her opinion.

“I was _worried_.” she argued. “I thought maybe… Where did you disappear to, then?”

His face closed up and he tossed the covers back down with a sneer. “Where my old house used to be.”

“Oh.” she winced, feeling like an idiot. He snatched his woolen dressing gown from where he had tossed it at the foot of the bed that morning and turned away. She sat up, confused. “Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.” he declared.

“No, Haymitch, don’t be ridiculous…” she pleaded but he was already gone. Snowball hesitated for a moment and then jumped off the bed and paddled after him.

She was reasonably certain the issue wouldn’t be forgotten the next morning and she didn’t really know how they had gotten there.

A few hours earlier he had been singing lullabies to her stomach and _now_ …

Now it was a mess again.


	23. Twenty-Eight Weeks

It was uncanny how the woods hadn’t changed.

When they had first come back to Twelve, everything had been in ruins and Haymitch hadn’t been able to breathe properly. He remembered feeling stunned and almost shocked that Katniss could walk among the rubble without flinching every two steps – although Katniss had been back twice before that when he had carefully avoided looking at any picture of the destroyed District. He remembered thinking he had been sentenced to hell once more and thus he had locked himself again in that tomb of a house, devoid of any hope for a better life.

He had had plenty of hopes before the end of Katniss’ trial, before her mother had run and they had been short of a guardian, before he had stood up and _volunteered_ because he was the only one of the three of them who hadn’t yet. He had been thinking about moving somewhere else, somewhere new, where new beginnings would have been possible. Wherever Effie wanted, really, because at that point he had stopped deluding himself into thinking he didn’t want her to feature in his life. Wherever the kids would have liked because there was no way he would have left them behind.

Twelve…

Twelve had never been on the table for him.

However, after the few first horrendous weeks, after the first couple of months… Twelve had risen from its ashes, the same in many ways but different in enough of others that Haymitch had finally felt comfortable _venturing_. The District was completely different from before, now. More modern despite what Effie’s mother had to say about it, crammed with shops nobody needed, no longer the poorest in Panem or, at least, not so visibly that people were starving in the streets…

It was actually a nice place to live nowadays and, sometimes, not often but _sometimes_ , he even forgot that it hadn’t always been that way. It looked like that _somewhere else_ he had vaguely let himself dream about, _somewhere_ _new._

But the woods were exactly the same as in his youth, untouched by the war and the Capitol’s chemical fire, and the more he roamed them, the more difficult it became to leave the past behind. And yet he came back every day under the pretence of walking the dog who quite enjoyed the trek, running around and barking, exhausting himself enough that he wouldn’t be restless in the house…

Haymitch had been returning to the woods every morning for close to a week and he stuck to them most of the day, simply walking around at random – or seemingly at random because _there_ was the clearing where he used to meet Mabel, _there_ was the lake where he and his friends swam in, _here_ and _there_ were his favorite spots for snares, and finally where the forest met the old mine, _there_ was where the electrical fence used to stand and where they used to sneak out…

He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve by revisiting those memories every day because they _hurt_ , each and every one of them. He had long buried the torch he had carried for his girlfriend, accepted that although he had clung to the idea of a lifelong love as much as he could, he had only been sixteen and chances were things would have been very different in the long run. He would forever feel guilty about her death because it had been senseless and _his_ _fault_ , his love for her alone had been a death sentence. Thinking about Mabel still hurt because of the _pointlessness_ of it all. Thinking about the friends he used to spend his days with also hurt because, aside from Hazelle, most of them were dead. Thinking about his _brother_ …

He whistled because Snowball had disappeared between two dead bushes five minutes earlier and he couldn’t see the puppy anymore. He was hard to spot in the snow that still covered the ground. The weather wasn’t _so_ bad for early February, he was ready to bet there would be more snow coming down but, for now, the thick coat had finally thinned and they had cleared the roads enough that Effie could reach the town if she was motivated enough to attempt the walk.

She was starting to waddle – _not_ that he would tell her that. Or _anything_ , lately.

_He_ hadn’t visited the town in a week, not since he had found her in the attic, rummaging in boxes that should have remained closed. The bar was a little too attractive. He had taken the piss that night, when she had asked if he had drunk, but the truth of the matter was: he _had_ gone in and by the force of habits had ordered a glass of whiskey.

He had stared at that glass for hours.

It had been untouched when he had stood up and left.

He didn’t feel particularly proud about it, not when the thirst was stronger than ever. He had finished the treatment Larcher had prescribed him so perhaps it was the reason why… Perhaps without the help of the pills he had dutifully been swallowing for the last couple of months he wasn’t strong enough not to yearn for alcohol at every waking moment. Or perhaps it was what lurked in the attic that had him drifting…

Effie had gone back up.

She had done it when he hadn’t been home but he _knew_. He could tell. He could _always_ tell when she was plotting something.

He reached the lake and sat down on a mostly snow-free boulder, watching the glimmering ice without truly seeing it. Snowball brought him a big heavy stick and they played tug, then fetch. The puppy was having a grand time. Haymitch was distracted.

He wasn’t exactly surprised to see Katniss emerge from between two trees after a while. There wasn’t much game to catch those days, although she always managed a few squirrels, but she needed the daily moments of solitude almost as much as he craved them lately.

“Looking for me?” he asked because that had happened a few times over the last week. Katniss tracking him down in the woods or Peeta making sure he wasn’t dropping drunk dead somewhere… Effie had been very good at not pushing his boundaries and respecting the fact he wanted space – then again, she had always been good at knowing when to insist and when to retreat with him – but the kids didn’t get it.

The girl’s mouth was set in a serious line as she came closer, barely stopping to awkwardly pat the dog on the head – she wasn’t fond of Snowball, he reminded her too much of the mutts that had appeared at the end of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games – and he knew she was done humoring him.

_Hell_ , he had lasted eight days without anyone trying to pressure him, it was more than he had thought he would have.

“What’s going on with you and Effie?” she asked, never one to choose diplomacy over efficiency.

“None of your business.” he spat.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. He tried not to notice she was wearing the green scarf Effie had knitted for her… “You’re not going to bolt, are you? Because _too late_ , Haymitch. You made your choice. You told her you wanted the kid, you don’t get to change your mind now. I won’t let you. Parents should _always_ stick with their children.”

Her little speech started firm but ended up pained and he sighed, rubbing his eyes, wondering why he always had to make a mess of everything. “I did a lot of _shit_ , sweetheart, but I _always_ stuck with you and the boy. Don’t drop other people’s mistakes on me. That’s not fair.”

“We’re not talking about me.” Katniss argued, harshly enough that Snowball let out a small warning growl.

Haymitch tossed the stick if only to keep the overprotective puppy occupied.

“Aren’t we always?” he snorted.

“You’re being _an_ _ass_.” she snapped. “You’ve been _an_ _ass_ for a week. To me, to Peeta and to Effie. She’s carrying _your_ _kid_. It means _nothing_ to you?”

You knew things were bad when Katniss Everdeen took the champion’s mantle for Effie Trinket…

“I want a drink.” he admitted. “ _Badly_.”

That shut her up, at least.

Katniss hesitated and then joined him on the boulder, not offering any of the platitudes someone else would have. Reassurances, encouragements… The girl didn’t know how to do that so she simply sat  there, her side pressed against his in a not so subtle reminder that she was _there_ , and she watched him play with his dog, lost in her own thoughts.

They remained like that for the longest time.

He was relieved not to have to explain himself. Peeta had been probing the issue without really voicing his concerns. Katniss understood him in ways the boys didn’t though, which was why he found himself talking in the end.

“I’ve got stuff in my attic.” he said, at last. And wasn’t that just the best metaphor. “Stuff from… _before_. I used to cram boxes up there every year when the Games were still on. I never even really went up all the way, I just pushed the boxes up there and forgot about them.”

“What’s in the boxes?” Katniss frowned.  

“Leftover clothes from the season that were too fancy to wear around Twelve.” he shrugged. “Some pictures, I guess… A few magazines… Any reminder, really…”

He didn’t even know why he had kept all the stuff in the first place instead of just dumping it in the bin. He had stocked the clothes because there had never been enough of them in his youth and it seemed almost criminal to him to toss perfectly good fabric away when people were dying of exposure in the Seam – he would never have been able to just _give them away_ , the Capitol would have frown on that but just dumping them in the trash had been out of the question, just like wasting food would have been. There had been less items he truly didn’t want after Effie had come on board anyway. She had a knack to dress him the way he liked and the boxes from her years mostly contained suits and mementoes.

_Those_ were the things he had never quite been able to explain to _himself_. There were a few promo pictures from Twelve’s team, stuff he had been given and had usually buried at the bottom of his luggage, out of sight out of mind, until he had found them while unpacking. He had burn them in the beginning but with the years… Photoshoots had never been something he enjoyed but Effie had made it fun, some of those were actually _good_. There were more genuine pictures too… Of him with the other victors, either at Games events or in the privacy of one of their apartment in the Center… Of him with Effie… He was sure there was a stack of Polaroid somewhere on which she wasn’t wearing much if anything at all…

The people on those pictures, they had been having a good time. It was usually why you took pictures, to remember the good times. And every time he had come back to Twelve, to the overwhelming misery, to the reality of two more dead kids he somehow always managed to push at the back of his mind with booze, women or friendly company while in the Capitol… He had felt _ashamed_. So the pictures had ended up in the boxes. Out of sight.

“Okay.” Katniss nodded as if it made sense. And, to her, it probably did.

“There’s stuff from my old house too.” He rushed the words out, as if he was tearing off a particularly resistant band-aid. “Effie found that.”

“And you’re mad because she looked at it?” she asked in a knowing voice. He remembered the stuff she had been carrying everywhere from Twelve to Thirteen to the Capitol and back. The picture of her father, his jacket, the pearl Peeta had given her, the pin… She understood clinging to things like talismans.

Peeta had kept nothing from _before_.

Effie had lost almost all her belongings but she was the kind who dutifully kept everything from a movie ticket to beads he had won at a poker game and had tossed at her just to shut her up. She was a collector. Everything and nothing, every little thing.

Haymitch didn’t consider himself to be a nostalgic person but he still wore the battered golden bangle despite the weird looks people had tossed him at first. The bangle was his token. It had been a reminder during those months in Thirteen that she was out there, somewhere, and he needed to find her. Wearing it had been a promise to himself.

Some objects were more precious than others.

Others though…

“I forgot it was there.” he said and it was the crux of the matter, really.

He had _forgotten_. He had thought he had put his family _to rest_. He had bought geese because it had been Hayden’s dream to have a farm. He had planted irises for her mother, to remember her by because the graveyard was gone, destroyed in the bombings. He had find stability with the kids, had opened his door to Effie, had settled in this new family unit and, later, had even felt confident they could add a baby to the mix with relative safety.

He had thought the grieving process was finally over. And then he had climbed up to the attic in search of her, grumbling under his breath about ladders and potential accidents, only to be confronted with a past he had completely forgotten he had stashed there.

“I miss Prim.” Katniss confessed after a long moment of silence. “Every day, I miss her. It’s never going to go away.”

“No.” he confirmed. Because he still missed them. Hayden, his mother… His girl too. Chaff, Finnick, Mags… The list went on and on…

“But sometimes I forget.” she whispered, looking down at her feet. “Sometimes I’m happy and I forget I miss her. It makes me feel terrible but then I realize… She wouldn’t want me to be miserable so… I think it’s okay if I forget from time to time. Doctor Aurelius says it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving her, that it doesn’t mean I will forget her _for good_.” She shrugged and grabbed his hand, squeezing once before letting go. “I don’t think it means you forgot them for good, Haymitch. It doesn’t mean you’re replacing them.”

Hadn’t he, though? Replaced his dead family with a brand new breathing one?

He snorted and shook his head. His mother would have whacked him at the back of the skull _so_ _hard_ for even _thinking_ that way…

“It’s the only thing that matters.” he mumbled awkwardly. “ _Family_.”

“Yeah.” she agreed without any embarrassment. “You should never turn your back on them, never give up on them, never _leave_ …”

“I ain’t going to leave my kid.” he growled. He wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t just abandon them and run away because he was too much of a coward to face his life, no matter how difficult. “ _Any_ of my kids.”

“I know.” she said, matter of fact. “I _trust_ you to never leave. You’re the only one who never did.”

“Sweetheart…” Her mother’s defection still hurt her and their contacts were seriously limited to a phone call every six months as far as he knew. She hadn’t forgiven her and, to be honest, neither had he nor Effie. He wasn’t sure what to answer to that so he threw caution to the wind and simply hugged her. They didn’t do that often and it was always special.

She hugged back for dear life and he heard a suspicious sniff but when she talked her voice was steady. “You’re a great dad, Haymitch. You’ll be _fine_.” She drew back and punched his shoulder. “But you should stop acting like a jerk and go home now. And tell her about the drinking thing… It’s _Effie_ , she’ll get it. Maybe she can help distract you or… whatever.”

_Distract him_ would involve fewer clothes and a lot less pregnant stomach but he didn’t think Katniss meant it in that sense anyway.

“Yeah.” he sighed. He supposed he had brooded enough. He had been in and out of the house for days now, barely talking to her at all… It wasn’t fair on her.

They walked back to the Village together, mostly in silence, both of them dealing with their own ghosts.

She spotted the car first. It was hard to miss, neatly parked in front of his house as it was. “Why’s the doctor here?”

Haymitch’s blood ran cold and he rushed inside, dashed straight to the living-room where she was lying on her side on the couch, awfully pale, with Peeta perched on the armrest behind her head and Larcher packing up his medical bag. Everyone looked at him but he only looked at her, wide eyes, heart hammering in his chest.

“I am fine.” she said immediately. “It was nothing. Peeta was just overcautious.”

“You _fainted_.” the boy protested, almost accusatory.

“I didn’t faint, I was simply _dizzy_.” she argued.

“It was just some hypoglycemia.” Larcher confirmed. “Nothing a hot chocolate didn’t fix. Now, Effie, try to take it easy today.”

“It won’t be difficult, I am exhausted.” she grumbled.

And for the first time in days, Haymitch noticed the dark bags under her eyes. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well because on the rare nights he had consented to go to bed with her she had tossed and turned for hours. But sleep had evaded him as well since the attic and he had spent most nights in the living-room, trying to focus on a book or staring at the fire to resist the temptation of getting wasted enough to close his eyes without having nightmares.

He waited until Larcher was gone to kneel next to the couch, barely noticing Katniss gesturing at Peeta to come with her – and _away_ from the house, he assumed. He pressed a kiss on her stomach first and on her lips next.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

He expected some anger because it was Effie – and if Effie was forgiving she also liked to make him grovel for it – but she simply looked relieved.

“You should not have shut me out.” she chided him gently but without heat, cupping his cheek, her thumb running on his bottom lip.

“I know.” he admitted, pressing a kiss against the pad of her thumb. “I just… It got _too_ _much_.”

He sat down with a sigh and let his head fall on the couch, in the curve between her breasts and her belly.

“Do you mean _us_?” she asked uncertainly, her hand falling on his shoulder.

He entwined their fingers. “Never us, Princess.”

They _were_ too much. Had _always_ been _too much_. Together, they were like an inferno and it sometimes felt like more than he could handle. But it had been years since he had thought they were a bad idea. They were _complicated_. But he had told her once and he still meant it: good things sometimes came out of _complicated_.

“You have been struggling.” she pointed out cautiously, clearly afraid he would get mad again. He had no energy left in him to get mad. “With the drinking.”

“Yeah.” he admitted, his voice more fragile than he would have liked. “Haven’t touched booze though. I _won’t_.” That promise was fierce, it was directed not to only to himself but to _her_ and to their _baby_. “Don’t worry.”

“ _Of course_ , I worry.” she sighed. “But I do not worry about the drinking, I worry about _you_. Haymitch, I am…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again.” he cut her off. “Wasn’t your fault. This is your _fucking_ house, there’s no _out_ _of_ _bounds_ room. I was just…” He let that sentence trail off. Staring at the ceiling instead of looking at her. “Just… One moment we were there, getting ready for the shrimp and everything was… _Good_ … And the next… I forgot all that stuff was up there.. The furniture… The ashes… I _forgot_. And then it hit me that… I can picture what our kid will look like, I can picture him _so fucking well_ , sweetheart… Down to the dimples… But my mom and my baby brother… I can’t remember their faces, their features…”

He felt her fingers slowly running in his hair and he closed his eyes, letting the familiar gut wrenching sorrow wash over him. He clenched his jaw and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“You do not have _any_ picture?” she asked softly.

He shook his head once in denial. “The only one burned. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying _so fucking hard_ to remember…”

His voice broke and he bit down on the inside of his cheek, keeping himself together by sheer force of will only.

“Oh, my darling…. It is alright…” she breathed out, wriggling on the couch to push herself up.

He wanted to tell her not to move because she needed to rest but then she awkwardly hugged his shoulders from behind. Her stomach was in the way and she grew frustrated enough that she pulled on his arm until he consented to haul himself off the floor to sit with her. Then she draped herself over him, crawling on his lap, because, pregnant or not, hugging was her favorite form of comforting.

A part of him bristled at this open show of weakness, another part simply marveled he could be so open with _anyone_ after everything. But it was _Effie_. And Effie had been with him for almost sixteen years. She had seen the good and the bad. She had been there for most of it.

They were intimately acquainted with each other’s demons.

“You’re heavy.” he complained for the sake of it.

She laughed but there were tears in her eyes that she hastily blinked away. She kissed his cheek and then his mouth, a peck that was far from innocent and that went a long way in making him feel better. His first instinct when he was hurt was always to seek a lonely place but it was always her touch that ended up soothing him.

“We will take thousands of pictures.” she declared, resting her forehead against his. “We will record every moment for him, for when he is older.”

He nodded his assent, his hands gently rubbing her back. “You’ve been cleaning up there.”

He felt her hesitation but she didn’t try to lie.

“I sorted the boxes that did not seem to have sentimental value.” she explained. “There is no use keeping clothes that we could give to some charities… I made bags if you want to go through them.”

“No, it’s fine.” he shrugged. “They were up there ‘cause I didn’t want them.” He took a deep breath. “I should probably get rid of the rest…”

“It is a big attic.” she argued. “There is no need for hasty decisions.”

“It’s nothing but _junk_.” he scoffed.

“It is all you have left.” she whispered. “It is alright to want to keep it. It does not even take that much room… Leave it there. Who knows… Perhaps you will want to show it to our son someday…”

“Nice depressing talks you see us having.” he chuckled bitterly, but her offer was more than tempting and thus he dropped the matter, tugging a little on her low ponytail. “How come you were dizzy? You skipped breakfast?”

“Nothing appealed to me so I simply had a toast.” she pouted. “I _really_ wanted scrambled eggs but we didn’t have any in the fridge and I was not sure I could manage without burning the whole house anyway so it did not seem worth it to brave your birds.”

“We don’t have eggs ‘cause you’ve been puking at the _sight_ of them for months.” he mocked. She pouted deeper and he snorted. “You still want scrambled eggs?”

She flashed him a beaming smile and he shook his head at those weird cravings of hers. He was mostly grateful it had hit her late because he wasn’t sure he could have taken nine of months of requesting strange food at every hour of the day.

“Do we have bacon?” she asked hopefully.

“Think so.” he shrugged, nudging her off his lap – with some _relief_ because she _really_ was heavy. “Lie down for a bit, yeah?”

“If that was _that_ easy.” she huffed. “I haven’t been able to find a comfortable position _in_ _days_. I am too big!”

“You’re beautiful.” he countered automatically.

She tossed him a dark knowing look that he chose to ignore in favor of getting her food ready. He made two plates, figuring they might as well have an early lunch. She was lying on her side again when he came back, propped on pillows, Snowball spread over her feet, and she was still pouting.

“I _cannot_ take two more months of this.” she told him. “My back aches, my ankles are swollen and I cannot _for the life of me_ get comfortable… My clothes are too tight again. Those pregnancy pants are _supposed_ to be _stretchy_. Why are they _not_ stretchy? I would get _naked_ if it wasn’t so cold.” A naked Effie was never a bad thing and he smirked but, clearly, it wasn’t the right reaction. “Oh, do not get any idea… I am too big for that.”

“Never back down from a challenge, sweetheart.” he teased, handing her a plate. “Here, get some food into you.”

She sat up to grab it, disturbing the puppy who grumbled but hopped down to the safety of his own bed where nobody would annoy him, and she eagerly planted her fork in the eggs. She brought it to her lips and immediately dropped it without even placing it in her mouth.

He watched as she turned green and he snatched the plate back, hurrying to dispose of the eggs. He came back with more crispy bacon and some warmed up fish leftover they had had for dinner the previous night.

“I _like_ eggs.” she whined, accepting the new plate.

“I know.” he sighed.

“Your shrimp is a pain.” she hissed, ignoring the fish to pounce on the bacon.

“ _Our_ shrimp.” he corrected, tossing a piece of bacon to Snowball who was suddenly less interested in sleeping. “But, yeah. Probably.”

With the two of them as his parents…

What else was she expecting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I was running everywhere yesterday and had no time to post! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know!


	24. Twenty-Nine Weeks

The stairs were tricky to manage nowadays.

She clung to the banister, forced to stop every three step down to catch a breath. She had lounged in a bath for hours with scented candles and soft music but the relaxing effect was already fading away faced with the reality of how heavy, big and annoying her body had become. Never mind the cramps or the heartburns – all normal according to the doctor – her back had been bothering her for weeks and she hadn’t thought it could get worse but now it was _killing_ her. Haymitch was dutiful in massaging the knots away but relief never lasted long.

It took her about ten minutes to get downstairs and she vowed to _not_ get upstairs again until bed time. She would simply have to send Haymitch if she needed anything. Or Snowball. She had been training the puppy to fetch specific things with mildly successful results.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs and made sure the towel wrapped around her wet hair was secured – it would mean wild untamable curls in the morning but she _really_ didn’t have the energy blowing it dry would require. It smelt good in the house and she felt her mouth water as her stomach rumbled in hunger.

“What are we having for dinner?” she asked as she stepped in the living-room.

She had been thinking with her stomach for weeks. That, too, was a pain.

All in all, Effie was really _done_ with being pregnant – a thought she immediately felt guilty for because she would never recover if anything bad happened _now._

“White fish with some spices and orange sauce.” Haymitch answered absent-mindedly from one of the leather armchairs close to the shelves, engrossed in a book.

He looked up when she came in and, she had to give him that, his lips barely twitched – he had learned not to mock her too much anymore on pain of her trying to murder him with a pillow in a fit of pregnant insanity. She was sure there _were_ reasons to laugh though. The shirt she had borrowed from him was stretched so tight it looked ready to burst at the seams and the stretchy pregnancy pants didn’t look – or felt – so stretchy. She looked _anything_ but fashionable and she couldn’t begin to care even though the children would probably be around for dinner. In the state her body was in, comfort primed over fashion.

“You are getting creative with recipes.” she commented, dropping on the couch and immediately trying to find a good position – to no avail.

“Someone’s gonna need to feed that kid eventually.” he shrugged, sounding a bit embarrassed. She didn’t see why he was truly, he was a good cook when he bothered and she was helpless in a kitchen. It all worked out perfectly fine in her opinion. She would keep the house clean and he would put food on the table. He closed his book to look at her. “Your dad called.”

It was somehow funny to her how Elindra was always her _mother_ but Tadius was her _dad_.

“Should I call him back?” she hummed, gauging the distance between her and the kitchen and not liking the results she was coming with.

“Nah.” he dismissed. “I sent a book last week, he just wanted to say thanks.” Which probably meant they had spent half an hour debating about whatever the book had been about. It had happened a few times since she had officially introduced them in Four. They sent each other books, then they argued about them. It was an odd form of bonding but they seemed to have developed a liking and some begrudging respect for each other so Effie wasn’t going to look a horse gift in the mouth. Even if it stung a little that her father seemed more eager to talk to Haymitch than to her. “He’s got a business trip in Eleven next week. He said he would stop by if that was okay with us… Wasn’t sure what you would want but… You were fine with your mother coming and it’s just for a night so…”

“You accepted.” she deduced.

He  made a face. “I can call him back if you…”

“No, no, it is more than fine.” she smiled. “I am happy you like him so much.”

“It’s not that I _like_ him.” he denied awkwardly. “He’s your dad. I’m trying to…” He drew out a sigh. “I don’t want you to feel like…”

“It is fine, Haymitch.” she cut him off softly. “ _Truly_. I appreciate your efforts.”

“You want them in the shrimp’s life, right?” he winced. “We have to… We _can’t_ have a war. I don’t want to put him in the middle. Wouldn’t be fair.”

“Haymitch.” she insisted. “It is _fine_.”

“Good. _Good_.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his book before rolling his eyes. “ _Maybe_ I like him. He’s not _too_ crazy for a Capitol.”

She grinned at him. “I think he likes you too.”

“Great. So we’ll be a merry family then.” he deadpanned, his grey eyes snapping back to her. “How’s the back?”

“I do not think it will get better until I give birth.” she complained with a pout. Which reminded her… “About that… We need to talk.”

He frowned and immediately left the armchair to come and sit on the coffee table – something that wasn’t a good idea because it hadn’t been designed to take that sort of weight. “Everything’s okay? You spoke to Larcher?”

“Not since his last visit, no. And everything is alright.” she hurried in reassuring him. “I just… I have been reading about childbirth lately and _labor_ … And… We need to talk about practical details.”

“Do we?” He wrinkled his nose.

She narrowed her eyes at him, irritated with his antics. “Yes, we _do_.” She drew out an exasperated sigh. “First, and do _not_ freak out over this because it is only a precautionary measure, I made an appointment at the Justice Building.”

“To give birth?” he frowned, obviously confused.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, knowing there was no softening what she was about to say. “To make a will.”

His whole body seemed caught between a bristle and a flinch. He physically recoiled as if she had hit him and his face grew darker. “You don’t need to think about that.”

“Yes, I do. _We_ do.” she insisted. He tried to get up, walk away, but she held him back by the hand, clinging to it for dear life. “Haymitch, will you hear me out?”

“ _No_.” he snapped. “’Cause you’re not going to _die_.”

“It is very unlikely.” she pacified him. “But I want to make sure… Haymitch, if anything happens to me, I _need_ to make sure everything will be in order.”

“Like what?” he spat. “You’ve got next to nothing.”

It was true he was the one with the money but she didn’t like being reminded of that fact. It was hurtful and demeaning and she let go of his hand to fold her arms over her chest.

“I have a child.” she hissed. “Who I need to make sure will be lawfully recognized as yours as well so you can get custody if anything happens to me.”

“Custody of my _own son_?” he growled. “Why, _thank you_ , sweetheart.”

“I _simply_ do not want it to be difficult if anything were to happen.” she retorted. “The right preventive steps will make sure…”

“You’re _not_ dying!” he shouted. From where he was lounging in front of the fireplace, gnawing on his toy, Snowball let out a threatening growl. Haymitch glared at him. “Sure, take her side. Maybe she can leave _you_ to me too in her will. Not like you were _my_ _fucking_ _dog_ to begin with.”

The baby was agitated and she rubbed her stomach, not any more partial to screams than their child seemed to be. She let him calm down, let him take a few heavy pants, and then she simply licked her lips.

“You are making a will too, by the way.” she stated. “As you so _nicely_ pointed out, I have next to nothing. If anything happens to you, we need to make sure our child will be provided for.”

“I’ve got a will.” he spat angrily. “Anything happens to me, everything goes to you, Katniss and Peeta in equal shares.”

She couldn’t help but frown. “You have a will?”

“Yeah.” he scowled, calming down a little. “Made it in Thirteen.” He passed a hand over his face. “Guess, it needs to be updated to include the baby.”

“It would be wiser, yes.” she confirmed. “It is _just_ a precautionary measure, Haymitch…”

“You’re not dying.” he repeated and it sounded like an order.

“It is certainly not in my short term plans.” she smiled, patting the cushion next to her. “Come on, there is more.”

“Oh, _great_.” he mocked. “What are we discussing now? Cremation versus burial? Gotta tell you, I’m a _get back to the dirt_ kind of guy myself.”

“And you can put that in your will for me to hopefully never find out.” she replied. “Although, since the matter is up, I would like to be buried too and in Twelve. Do not let anyone ship me back to the city. I know there is a Trinket vault…”

“Shut _up_.” he demanded, dropping on the couch next to her. “I don’t want to talk about this stuff.”

“You started it.” she reminded him.

“Yeah?” he sneered. “Who started talking about wills and…”

“I want you with me when the baby is born.” she cut him off, grabbing his hand again. She didn’t give him time to argue. “I am aware other women would probably give their partner a choice in that and I am aware you would probably prefer to wait outside for the whole thing to be over but… You put that baby into me, you will be there when it gets out. You will hold my hand and you will let me insult you and I am sure you will be unhelpful and infuriate me to no ends but… I _need_ you with me. There is _no one else_ I would rather have with me. It will be scary and painful and I want you there.”

She was staring straight at him, searching for something, some doubt or disgust, she didn’t find. He actually looked calmer and it was his turn to squeeze her hand.

“Nice speech.” he teased. “Not really necessary. Wasn’t going to wait outside. Won’t leave your side. I… I wanna _be_ there. I don’t want to miss _anything_.”

She wondered how much was due to his overprotective nature and how much was out of impatience at being a father.

“Good.” she commented with a long breath, relieved. “Which brings me to my next point…”

“Another one?” he cringed. “You don’t want to save some for tomorrow?”

She licked her lips, even more nervous about this than she had been about the will. She was resolved though. She had a list of pros and cons. She had read what every book had to say on the subject. She had talked to Larcher _and_ to Eileen. She hadn’t gone as far as asking her mother’s opinion – knowing full well what it would be – but she had gotten close to it.

“I want a home delivery.” she told him.

He didn’t erupt in protests, which she took as a positive point. He didn’t seem overjoyed either.

“Isn’t it more risky?” he ventured and, when she opened her mouth to argue, he lifted his free hand. “Look… Home deliveries… It’s pretty much standard in Twelve, I guess… That’s how my mother did it… I’m not saying I’m _against_ but… Times changed, yeah? Most people go to the clinic nowadays ‘cause… It’s safer, right? And you opened that speech with wills and you’re _so_ not dying on me, sweetheart…”

“It is safer in some ways, yes.” she admitted. She hesitated but eventually shrugged. “I will panic in the clinic. I will be in pain and I will see the white walls and I will panic, I know it. I will space out, it will probably complicate everything and… I do not want to miss our son’s birth because I am flashing back to the war and…” She averted her eyes. “It would be safer in some ways but worse in others. Doctor Larcher agreed to come here once the labor starts, preventing there is no emergency at the clinic. He gave me the number of a local midwife… She would be there too. Oh, we will need to make appointments with her anyway for antenatal classes.”

He made a face. “What’s that now?”

“Breathing techniques and the likes.” she clarified. “The classes are for couples. And since you agreed to be there for the birth…”

“Okay, okay…” he granted, waving it away. “You’re _sure_ about this? ‘Cause I’m guessing it means natural childbirth, yeah? No fancy drugs… It’s gonna hurt like a _bitch_ , sweetheart. The shrimp’s big and I know for a fact you’re not that wide down…”

“Don’t you _dare_ finish this sentence.” she hissed.

He smirked but he didn’t look completely reassured. “If you think it’s the best option.”

“The baby is healthy and if he remains so… There shouldn’t be any complication.” she argued. “I will go to the clinic if something goes or feels wrong, of course, but… I would _really_ rather want to have him here. I already ordered plastic sheets for the bed.”

“Really don’t need the details.” he winced.

“You know, you will be in the room. You will _see_.” she teased.

“Yeah.” He did turn a little green at the thought. “Don’t spoil it. Leave me the surprise.” She rolled her eyes but he ignored her, reaching out to gently pat her belly. Not long after, the baby kicked. Following vibrations was one of his favorite games. “You’re sure you’ll be good with the pain?”

“I am not scared of pain.” she promised. “Well… That is not entirely true but I am certain I can manage. I have been through worse.”

He nodded and glanced up. “Fine, then. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” she smiled, covering his hand on her stomach because as much as he enjoyed playing with their baby, _she_ wasn’t enjoying the enthusiastic kicking so much.

“We’re done with doom news?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows, half-teasing and half-serious. She hesitated, distractedly playing with his fingers, and he frowned. “Okay, what now?”

“I have something for you.” she admitted. “A gift.”

“A gift?” he repeated, confused.

She had been working on it _for days_ but, if she had been nervous about broaching the subjects of wills and home deliveries, it was nothing compared to the idea of giving that to him. It could go very well or very badly. It felt like tossing a coin in the air, really, and the last thing she needed was him running away to spend his days in the woods again.

“A gift.” she confirmed.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot an anniversary or something? ‘Cause I didn’t know we _had_ one to begin with, Princess…”

Her lips twitched and she didn’t quite try to hide her smile. As fun as it would have been to let him sweat for a little while, this was too important.

“There is no special occasion.” she reassured him. “But I am afraid it will upset you.”

“You’re giving me something that’s going to upset me…” he chuckled, a bit wary.

“I do not _know_ it will upset you.” she corrected. “I just think it _might_.” She waved that away. “If you do not like it, you can simply put it on the shelf and forget about it. It is as much for our son as for you, really. It is in the drawer in the hallway’s dresser.” The one he never rummaged through. “I would fetch it myself but…”

“Yeah.” he said, distractedly, standing up. His curiosity was piqued now, she could tell, but he also seemed cautious. It didn’t take him long to go through the drawer and come back with two leather notebooks similar to the ones Katniss used for her remembrance projects – except she had insisted on the covers of those ones being carved and decorated with spirals to make them a bit less gloomy. “Effie, what’s this?”

He sounded downward apprehensive now. He took his seat back next to her, placing the two notebooks on his knees but not making any move to open them.

One of them was bigger and she quickly switched them so it was on top. That one, she thought, would be the less difficult.

“I simply wanted to do something nice.” she whispered. “I hope you will like it.”

There was so much hope in her voice…

He studied her for a moment and then cleared his throat before cracking the big one open. She bit down on her bottom lip, staring at him rather than at the photo album she had spent days putting together. She had worked _hard_ to put the pictures in a chronological order and to make it a bit festive. She had traced the numbers in calligraphic letters and had added names and places when she could. She had made whimsical comments when it was appropriate – mainly when he or Chaff were doing stupid things. She had tried to make it… _light_.

There were pictures of him with his friends. His earliest Games when he didn’t always have a glass, a bottle or a flask in his hand yet… Pictures of he and Alina Graves with their arms linked, making faces at the camera… Pictures of he and Chaff playing chess… Of him and Mags on a couch that had long since been replaced when _she_ had arrived in the penthouse… There were Seeder and Beetee and Wiress and others…

He remained deadly silent, turning page after page, his jaw clenched…

He was a bit tense but he didn’t bolt. After four or five pages, he relaxed. 

“They’re not all mine.” he pointed out. “The pictures.”

“Most of them _do_ come from the attic but I asked Annie, Johanna, Beetee and my mother for copies.” she explained. “Enobaria did not have anything I could work with but she wanted me to pass along her congratulations for the baby. She is still as intense as ever, that woman…”

“Your mother?” he frowned, ignoring the rest. “What has she got to do with…”

“You will see.” she grinned. “Do you like it?”

He didn’t answer at once. His eyes lingered on a picture of him and Chaff and then he forced a smirk.

“It’s a good idea.” he granted. “They’re… good memories. Despite…”

“Yes.” She spared him having to mention the Games. They were looming behind the pictures, out of sight but not out of mind. “Go on.”

He turned the pages a bit faster, clearly amused by her enthusiasm. She started appearing on pictures around the Sixty-Second Hunger Games. It was only promotional pictures at first or clips from newspapers – and _that_ was where her mother had been useful because she had kept _every_ paper and magazine on which either she or Lyssa had been featured – only later did the pictures become more genuine. She wasn’t sure who had owned the camera. Earlier on, she thought it might have been Mags. Then, the photographer must have been Finnick… She _did_ remember Finnick snapping pictures at random sometimes, particularly during drinking sessions in the penthouse.

She had had one too, naturally, but those pictures only came _much_ later, around the Seventieth Hunger Games… She had mostly kept using it because it annoyed Haymitch to no end. She had taken so many pictures of him that year… They had all disappeared with the rest of her belongings in the ransacking of her apartment but she had given him a few of the two of them and those never ceased to make her smile. The pictures were so _genuine_ … Far from the posed and studied promotional ones…

There they were on the penthouse couch, with her arm stretch high so she could take the picture, her other arm around Haymitch’s neck to keep him in place. He was scowling so hard and she was grinning… Or there, when he had accidentally snapped a picture while trying to wrestle the camera out of her hands and only succeeded in catching them in what looked like an embrace. She was laughing on that picture and there was a smirk on his lips. If she wasn’t wrong, they had ended up having sex against the bay window that day…

There were a few others along the year, lost amongst more numerous official pictures that were intended to be funny – because funny was their style.

She rested her head on his shoulder and let him peruse the rest of the album.

It went as far as the Seventy-Third Hunger Games.

“None of the kids?” he asked.

“They have their own album.” she hummed. They had been taking pictures now and then since she had come to live in Twelve, Peeta liked photography. Not as much as he liked painting or baking but he had a knack for always capturing happy moments. She had been filing them away for a long time. “I want to start one for our son too. With the pictures of the ultrasounds… And the different pictures of me during my pregnancy…”

 And everything else she hadn’t been recording just as she should, like Haymitch working on putting furniture together in the nursery… The trip to the attic had been a revelation on that front and her brand new digital camera should be delivered in the next few days. She intended to take pictures and videos of _everything_ from now on.

There was a craft envelope at the very end of the album and he took it out with lifted eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“A bonus for your eyes only.” she grinned. “I am deeply vexed that they were buried under a heap of ties, I must say.”

He took a peek inside, smirking hard when he caught sight of the offered creamy skin. He had been having fun with her camera too one year.

She looked so young on those pictures… She couldn’t have been much younger than thirty or thirty-one but it was odd to see her body unmarred by angry red lines, unbroken yet. She was used to the scars.

“Hot.” he commented. “Should have kept them on hand. Literally.”

She wacked his arm playfully but smiled anyway. “Now, you can remember how I looked when I was beautiful.”

“You _are_ beautiful, sweetheart.” he countered.

“I look like a whale.” she argued.

“A hot whale.” he teased, pocketing the craft envelope and closing the notebook. “Thanks. It’s not… It’s _good_. We can show it to the shrimp when he’s older. Tell him about them…”

“Yes.” she confirmed, slowly taking the photo album from his hands to place it on the coffee table, leaving the thinner one on his knees. “Now… This one I am not sure about. I _hope_ you will like it. I _hope_ it will help you. But if it upsets you… If it upsets you, do not feel forced to look through it.”

He didn’t open it.

His fingers were twitching on the cover, the anxiety increasing the tremors.

He must have had an inkling about what he would find, she thought, because he didn’t look at her this time. His eyes kept darting from the album on the coffee table to the one on his knees. It took him a few minutes to finally flip the cover open and he sucked in a sharp breath when he saw her flowery handwriting on the first page.

_Abernathy Family._

“Effie…” he murmured, uncertain.

She entwined their fingers and gave him an encouraging squeeze. 

He slowly turned the page.

The first pages were pictures of him at sixteen. Some she knew he wouldn’t hate. Stolen ones during or after Training, fallouts of promotional shoots, a cropped one of him during his Reaping, when he had been joking with the boy next to him, grey eyes twinkling in amusement, lips stretched in a real smile that had now become rare…

He passed on those quickly.

“ _Fuck_.” he gasped when he finally reached the pages that had asked the most work. She rubbed her belly with her free hand. The baby was probably feeling her stress and was rolling around, giving her cramps.

The quality of the pictures wasn’t as good as she would have liked and, even though Iris Abernathy was smiling, it didn’t reach her eyes. She was too worried.

“How?” he asked in a raw voice.

“You won a Quell, Haymitch.” she reminded him. “There were a few interviews once you had reached the last eight… Not all of them went on air, there were always cropped contents. I asked Plutarch to dig in the archives.” He didn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes off his mother’s face. “Go on.” she encouraged him softly.

There were a few more screenshots from different interviews. There were more for Iris than for Hayden but he stopped on the first picture of his brother, pressing his fingers against the glossy paper as if he could go straight through to that fixed world.

“He looks so young.” she lamented.

“He _was_ young.” he spat.

His breathing came out in fast hard puffs and she pressed a kiss on his shoulder, over his woolen sweater. He didn’t feel it but he relaxed a little and he turned the pages.

That was her favorite part, the part that had asked _hours_.

Peeta had done an excellent job.

He had based the portraits on the interviews footage and, with Sae’s precious help, he had managed to do something beyond her hopes.

His mother was relaxed on those portraits, smiling a real smile, a twinkle in her eyes… Hayden looked carefree, boyish grin and exuberant youth…

There were a few sketches after that.

The Seam… Their house – based on Sae’s memories and Katniss’ occasional input… A few drawings of Iris in front of a garden with her hands on her hips and a scowling expression on her face that brought a sad snort out of Haymitch… Hayden running after geese…

Wistful images that had her blinking back tears…

He reverently brushed his fingers on each sketch.

“Marry me.”

His voice echoed in the living-room for a moment.

She had been expecting either a screaming match about her intruding or a heartfelt thank you. Not… _that_.

“It would certainly make things easier, yes.” she joked because she didn’t know what else to say and her mind was still on practical matters, like how they needed to make sure his paternity couldn’t be questioned. “But I already told you I won’t marry you simply because it would be easier.”

Or because she was pregnant.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to either clarify or argue his point, but abruptly shut it when he caught sight of the next portrait.

“You put Mabel in there.” he said flatly.

She barely glanced at the girl Peeta had really had troubles drawing. There had been no footage of her aside for a national ID picture from when she had been twelve that Plutarch _really_ had gone to some lengths to get and they had been forced to go mostly on Sae’s and a few other old people’s memories.

“Well, she is the love of your life, it seemed rude to leave her out.” she pointed out cheerfully. “I wanted to put your token in there but I was not sure you would want it filed away so I left it in the nightstand.” He looked up then, a deep frown on his face. She lifted her hands defensively. “I have _not_ been snooping in your nightstand. I simply happen to know it is there.”

For some reason, she had always made a point of knowing where the frayed pink ribbon he had dragged through an arena and back was.

The frown deepened ever further.

“She’s not the love of my life.” he declared, taking her a bit aback.

She looked down, chasing imaginary creases from her pregnancy pants. “It is perfectly alright, Haymitch. I know you love me too. There is no need to…”

“I was _sixteen_ , Effie.” he interrupted. “We had a few months together. How long have _we_ been together?”

“About two years since I moved in. Thirteen since we started sleeping together. Sixteen since we met.” she whispered.

Those were familiar calculations. She had done them often enough over the years.

“Almost two decades.” he scoffed. “You’re gonna compare a few months with two decades?”

“She was your great love.” she argued. “You always said…”

“ _Bullshit_.” he snapped. “Haven’t been saying that in _years_. All those years… It was _guilt_. I loved her, sure. But she died because of me, she died _because_ I loved her, because _she_ loved _me_. Couldn’t toss that in the trash, yeah? You want the truth? It was easier, sweetheart, _way easier_ than admitting that I…” He abruptly stopped talking, brought short as always by expressing his feelings. He shook his head. “She wasn’t the love of my life. She wasn’t my great love. _Fuck_ , Effie. _You_ are. How do you not _fucking_ know that yet?”

He was out of breath by the time his speech was done and she was not sure how to answer that.

She had known he loved her. She had known for a long time, long before he had actually told her, but somehow… She had also long accepted she came second to a ghost.

He was waiting for her to speak but, for once, she was out of words.

He swallowed with obvious difficulty and waved the thin notebook in the air. “This… It’s… It’s one of the greatest things anyone… Ah, _shit_.” He sighed with obvious frustration and coiled his free hand around her nape, guiding her in a hard kiss that made her see stars. “I love you.” he mumbled quickly against her lips, the words rushed together as if it would be easier. “And we’re getting married. Not ‘cause it’s easy but ‘cause it’s _right_. If we’d been anyone else… We’ve been together so _fucking_ long… If I’m sure of anything, I’m sure of _you_ … We’re having a kid who’s gonna have my name and it’s _stupid_ for you not to have my name too… And even if you weren’t knocked up… We’re a _fucking_ family… We’re… It’s _time_.”

He punctuated each argument with a kiss, as if to cloud her mind – which was working to some extent – and she couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Are you listing everything that pops through your head?” she mocked.

“Pretty much, yeah.” he shrugged. “So?”

“Well, I thought you could not do worse than last time in terms of proposal.” she grinned. “I suppose it was idiotic of me to at least hope for a ring. Or that you would wait until a time when I do not have a towel on my head…”

He rolled his eyes and drew back, placing the notebook on top of the other to stand up and start pacing. “When’s the appointment at the Justice Building for the will?”

“Next Wednesday.” she answered, a bit thrown by the change of topic.

“Good. That works.” he mumbled, rubbing his hands together. Snowball clearly thought it was a new game and started hopping around his legs, complicating his pacing by forcing him to sidestep the dog. “Your dad said he was coming on Tuesday. Maybe you should call your mother and give her the heads up ‘cause she’s gonna have my balls on a plate if you get married without at least telling her…” He made a face, probably not happy at the prospect of another visit from Elindra so soon after the last. “We can get them rooms at the inn, yeah? It’s gonna get crowded in here and you need the rest anyway. I guess you have to call Four too… They might want to come…”

“You want to get married _next_ _week_?” she gasped, caught between awe and horror.

“Maybe we can elope.” he muttered as if he hadn’t heard her, still pacing like there would be no tomorrow. “We can grab the kids and do it. Just us. But your dad would be here so it might be awkward to explain… And, _yeah,_ there’s the matter of your mother going after my balls…”

“Please, stop referring to your testicles and to my mother in the same sentence. It disturbs me greatly.” she cringed.

“And I know you, you’re gonna want a party or whatever…” he grumbled. “So, yeah… Eloping is out.”

“Getting married next week would already be considered eloping.” she pointed out. “And we _cannot_.”

“Why not?” he frowned, finally snapping out of his monologue. “You’ve got us an appointment. Just switch it from will to wedding. It’s not like they’re _overbooked_ , sweetheart.”

“Why am I the one making all the phone calls again?” she deadpanned.

“’Cause you’re the best at planning.” he answered with faked innocence. “I just try to show up on time.”

“And fail if I am not there to push you.” she commented.

He smirked and stopped walking, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Add it to the list of reasons I have to marry you.”

“That list should be as long as the tallest skyscraper in the city.” she taunted.

“Probably, yeah.” he smirked. “We’re getting married next week, sweetheart.”

“No, we are not.” she retorted. “I look like a cow. Do you know what cows in wedding dresses look like? Me neither but I do not think it would be pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” he countered. “You’re _always_ pretty. Come on, Effie. Let’s do it.” He looked so expectant, standing there with a boyish pout on his mouth… Faced with her silence, he shrugged. “We can have a toasting now, if you like that better. The Justice Building is just for the papers anyway… We need witnesses for that but… We can take the kids. Whatever you want. As long as you marry me.”

Eloping _now_ was tempting.

But the reactions they would get from their friends and family… Getting married without the children did not seem right. Neither did it to do it without Johanna and Annie there. And… She wanted her father to give her away – even if she had to _waddle_ to get there.

She had never thought it would ever happen so what were a few more months to wait to have a dream wedding? Except there would be a baby then and babies took time and energy and she suspected they would have their hands full enough without having to worry about a wedding. Her mother would want to help and she would meddle and it would be _horrible_.

Better to have her come the day before and drive her crazy for twenty-four hours only instead of planning ahead and having her harassing her for months.

“Next week.” she surrendered at last and she was rewarded with a happy smirk.

He dropped back on the couch next to her to kiss her in an endless kiss that told her the fish would burn in the oven and the children might get more than they bargained for when they could come in. His hands were running in her favorite places already, waking her body up despite how sluggish and ugly she felt…

“Hear that, shrimp?” he mocked, nuzzling her stomach a little. “You’re getting _married_ parents.”

“How traditional of us.” she taunted right back.

“Some traditions aren’t bad.” he argued, planting a kiss on the baby bump, before resuming his task of making her feel like a human pile of mush.

They managed not to traumatize the children further – although Katniss and Peeta arrived _right_ when she was slipping the shirt back on and she thought her dazzled expression and the hair tousled beyond repair might have given them away.

The fish, on the other hand, was on the charred side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters in this story, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know!


	25. Thirty Weeks

“Lamest wedding ever.” Johanna declared as they neared the slope leading up the Village.

Snowball was running ahead, jumping into puddles of melted snow, generally having the time of his life and making Haymitch internally cringe because Effie would insist on giving him a bath and that meant _he_ would have to do it. With the crash-course wedding the following day and her urge to make sure the house was ready for the baby, she had been in a frenzy for a week and she was tired, cranky and, frankly, a bit _crazy_.

Annie, Jo and little Finn had arrived a couple of days earlier and Haymitch had been _very_ happy to see them if only because they were a nice distraction. Effie spent most of her time fussing over Finn, Annie was keen on helping her in any way she could… It gave Haymitch some room to breathe.

When he had suggested they got married, he hadn’t really understood what it would imply. Sure, the wedding party was small: Jo, Annie, the kids and her family. They weren’t going to have a huge celebration but it didn’t make it any easier to organize. There would be champagne and a cake but there would be no dancing and no big party since Effie was in no shape for that – something her mother seemed to have trouble grasping. Elindra had finally relented a few days earlier about the wedding planner and the party of the year and what not, but Effie was _determined_ to have everything else go _perfectly_ not to have to endure remarks and Haymitch was already _very_ done with the whole thing.

He wanted to marry her.

He just didn’t need the pump.

Her family had been due to arrive any minute when he had dragged Johanna out of the house under the pretence of picking up the rings from the shop – if he had been forced to endure her inspecting the house one more time he would have gone completely mad.

“I mean… Trinket used to know how to party.” Jo sighed. “And you used to have the best booze. We’re not even getting a stag night or a hen night… What kind of lame stuff is this?”

“She’s almost eight months pregnant and I’m sober.” he grumbled.

Johanna rolled her eyes and buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket. They were walking very slowly and he suspected she wasn’t any more eager to get back than he was.

“That’s why you’re marrying her?” she asked. “’Cause she’s knocked up?”

“You _know_ why I’m marrying her.” he snapped.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well… _Sorry_. Can’t say I ever pictured you raising a kid with a crazy chick.”

“Could say the same about you.” he pointed out.

“It’s different.” Johanna scoffed. “I’m doing it for Finnick.”

“Sure.” he humored her because she wouldn’t have taken nicely to being told it was obvious she loved the boy like her own. He tossed her an annoyed look. “You’re the worst best man ever. Wonder why I picked you.”

“’Cause I’m your last best friend alive.” she snorted bitterly.

And it kind of summed it up.

He let that sink for a while, briefly pausing when they reached the open iron gates of the Village. Snowball had his front paws on the edge of the fountain, his tail wagging left and right as he studied the bird that was hopping around on the other side.

“It wasn’t exactly planned.” he admitted a bit out of the blue because he needed to get it off his chest and he needed another victor’s opinion. Not the _kids’_ because the kids were _his_ and he couldn’t burden them. But Jo, now… “But maybe it’s gonna be a good thing, yeah? ‘Cause… I’m _happy_ , right now. It’s good, right? It’s…”

“If you’re looking for absolution, don’t ask me ‘cause I’ve got no _fucking_ clue.” Jo asked. “You’re asking me if you’re allowed to be happy? Better than rotting alone in your house. They messed with our lives enough.”

“Seems unfair.” he muttered. “That _we_ ’re here and…”

“Yeah.” she cut him off with a shrug. “It’s _damn_ unfair. But it’s what it is.”

“I guess.” he echoed.

They resumed walking in silence, that particular conversation buried amongst things they would never discuss again.

Snowball rushed inside the house with a joyful bark as soon as he opened the door, as usual making a beeline for Effie. Not that Haymitch would have needed that much to find her. He only had to follow the noise. Clearly, Elindra had arrived.

The living-room was full.

Katniss was awkwardly standing in a corner, looking ready to make her escape, Effie was sitting on the couch with her mother and another Capitol woman he guessed to be her sister, two boys who must have been her nephews were sitting on the armchairs with their back straight, looking very bored but determined to act like dignified gentlemen, Annie was standing next to the fireplace with Finn on her hip and Tadius was inspecting the bookshelves.

Haymitch felt a bit like he had walked in on a circus.

“Haymitch.” Tadius greeted him, sounding almost _relieved_.

And from what he had overheard when he had come in, he understood why. Talks of dresses, fabrics and designs weren’t exactly his favorite things either. He shook the man’s hand with a small smile, happy to see him despite his natural misgivings about Capitols.

“Haymitch, I am terribly _crossed_. You _should_ have met us at the station.” Elindra declared without further ado, holding out her cheek in a manner that immediately sent him in a panic. He glanced at Effie in distress but she was biting down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from laughing and she gave him a small shrug that probably meant he should get on with it. He pecked the powdered cheek as lightly as he could but it was enough to make the woman frown. “You _are_ shaving for the wedding naturally.”

It wasn’t a question and Haymitch chose to forget answering.

“Sorry, Mrs Trinket.” he said instead. “I had to…”

Elindra pointedly cleared her throat.

He licked his lips, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten over that fancy yet.

A glance at Effie told him it wasn’t in his best interest to make her life any more difficult than it already was.

“I had to pick up the rings.” he grated through his teeth. “ _Mother_.”

It was nearly worth it if only to see Katniss almost choke to death and to hear Johanna’s mix of a chuckle and a gasp.

The stranger saved him from further embarrassment by standing up and outstretching a hand. He figured it was meant to be kissed but he shook it instead.

“I am Lyssa.” the woman unnecessarily clarified, sounding a bit reserved. With reasons, he supposed. The rebels had executed her husband after all. “Those are my sons, Timotheo and Bryden. Boys, greet your new uncle.”

It was uncanny how the kids simply nodded and mechanically uttered a _nice to meet you._ They must have been around ten but they were strangled by ties and little three pieces suits… _Ridiculous_.

“How charming they are.” Elindra beamed, missing the point completely, before placing her hand on Effie’s stomach. “I hope this one turns out just as well.”

He and Effie only had to exchange a look to agree _that_ was unlikely to ever happen.

“Now, now…” Elindra declared, checking her golden watch. “Haymitch, it is time to say your goodbyes. You cannot see the bride the day before the wedding… Are you staying at Katniss and Peeta’s house tonight? How kind of them to host you… But you must be _so_ happy for your friends, I am sure…”

That last part was addressed to Katniss. The girl didn’t have time to answer.

“We are not doing that, Mother.” Effie cut in. “Haymitch is staying here with me.”

Elindra and Lyssa both frowned.

“But you _must_.” her mother insisted.

“She’s pregnant.” Haymitch retorted.

“We have not spent a night apart since I moved in.” Effie added.

“But… Effie, it is bad luck!” Lyssa coaxed, grabbing her sister’s hand.

“We already got all the bad luck we could get.” Haymitch snorted. “We endure.”

The Capitol women weren’t exactly pleased with that dissent from tradition, he could tell, but they shared a look and probably decided to pick their battles because next…

“Now, darling…” Elindra cleared her throat, ignoring him to turn to her youngest daughter. “I _know_ you said you were taking care of everything and we should not worry about a thing…”

“I know you want a simple wedding but _really_ the thought of you marrying in less than the best…” Lyssa continued. “Do not be angry with us… We wanted to surprise you and it will be _such_ fun… I am sure your friends will love it too…”

Effie looked wary. “What did you do?”

Haymitch hoped there wasn’t a wedding planner hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

“We _might_ have brought a couple of dresses with us.” Elindra ventured. “A few wedding dresses for you to choose from and some spare bridesmaid dresses for your friends…”

“Five trunks.” Tadius told Haymitch behind a fake cough. “And there is another one with a suit for you, an outfit for the Odesta child as well as one for your dog.”

Johanna immediately snatched little Finn from Annie. “Hey, brainless… How about you show us around the woods? Finn gets cranky if he doesn’t get enough fresh air.”

Katniss jumped on the excuse and the two of them weren’t exactly polite in their hurry to get out of there, even if Effie tried to smooth ruffled feathers.

“Are you _terribly_ mad?” Lyssa sighed.

“Mad?” Effie repeated, her eyes shiny. She hugged her sister tight. “My dress is _terrible_. I could not find one that did not make me look like an air balloon…”

“Never fear!” Elindra beamed. “We brought only the best. We will have _such_ fun trying them on… They might need a few alterations though. I was confident we could find a seamstress in your District…”

“I can do it.” Effie answered.

“And I can help.” Annie piped in with a small dreamy smile. “But I don’t want to intrude… I can probably catch up with Johanna and Katniss if…”

Amongst the loud assurances that Annie wouldn’t be intruding at all, Haymitch started inching back toward the door, one step at a time. It was too late for the puppy who, tired of being ignored by Effie, had wandered over to the two boys. The youngest one – Bryden, if he remembered correctly – clearly was having trouble resisting the urge to pet him. He kept tossing covert glances at his mother and grandmother… His brother wasn’t faring any better, shuffling on his seat, eyeing the puppy with open interest…

Suddenly, they looked less like Capitol drones and more like kids who were trying really hard to behave.

“There’s a playground in town.” he told Tadius. “We could take the boys.”

_Escape,_ he meant.

The offer seemed to tempt the man greatly but his eyes were wild, a bit scared maybe.

“By _ourselves_?” Tadius winced. “Their nanny is at the inn. Perhaps we should make a detour.”

He glanced back at the kids who really didn’t look that frightening.

“I think we can deal.” he snorted. “Hey, sweetheart…” Rudely interrupted in the middle of her speech of gratefulness, Effie pursed her lips and tossed him a mild glare. He didn’t give her time to start ranting about manners. “I’m going to show your dad and your nephews around town, alright? This way you can have some girl time.”

Effie’s annoyance disappeared but he could tell she wasn’t quite fooled by the apparently selfless offer. “It is very nice of you, thank you.”

The boys seemed very happy about that plan. The youngest one looked up at him with big pleading blue eyes. “Can we take the dog with us, please?”

“Sure.” he smirked. He whistled once and the puppy immediately ran to his feet, which warranted impressed gasps from the children.

“Only the two of you?” Lyssa asked, sounding unsure. Her gaze darting from him to her father with worry. “Are you certain, Father? You have never been alone with the children without Nanny before, have you?”

His pride in jeopardy now that it had been implied he couldn’t take care of two ten years old by himself, Tadius bristled. “I do not plan on misplacing your children, Lyssandra.”

“She does have a point though, dear.” Elindra insisted, clearly mystified. “I do not remember you _ever_ being left alone with children…”

“Haymitch took care of Finn plenty of times.” Annie cut him with a sweet smile he didn’t deserve.

“Can we go, Mother?” Bryden asked, eyeing Snowball with longing. “We will behave for Uncle Haymitch and Grandfather, I promise. Won’t we, Timotheo?”

How old was that kid to talk that way? Did they have proper speech lessons in the Capitol? He was ready to bet on that being a thing.

The other boy nodded very seriously, as if he was thirty instead of ten. “I will help Grandfather and Uncle Haymitch supervise Bryden, Mother.”

Lyssa didn’t really look happy about it but it seemed she couldn’t say no to her children because next thing Haymitch knew, everyone was getting their coat and they were being escorted to the door by a frantic Capitol woman.

“Please, do _not_ hesitate to fetch Nanny at the inn if they become too much trouble.” Lyssa warned, obviously scared they would lose the children or let them get hurt.

“Tell you what, sweetheart…” he smirked, somehow understanding where her worry was coming from – the shrimp wasn’t born yet and he was already imagining a thousand scenarios where things turned badly. “I take care of your kids and you make sure Effie doesn’t overdo it, yeah? Don’t let her fool you, okay? Watch out for the signs ‘cause she says she’s fine but the next thing you know, she’s feeling dizzy. Tomorrow’s going to be stressful enough…”

“I _do_ know how to take care of my sister.” Lyssa cut him off, almost with a vexed huff. “I have been doing it since she was born.” A poor job, she had done, but Haymitch chose to keep his peace on that. It was between Lyssa and Effie, after all. She sighed. “I _will_ make sure she is reasonable. Do try not to lose or break my children.”

The door closed and the four of them were left alone in the front yard. At first, nobody moved. Tadius was watching the boys with obvious wariness, the boys were tossing covert glances at them, Haymitch was trying not to feel too much out of place… Then, as if their strings had been cut, the kids abandoned the _perfect gentlemen_ act and crouched next to the puppy who seemed delighted with the attention.

Bryden outstretched a hand and then seemed to remember himself and looked at him, eyes shining with excitement. “May I pet him?”

Haymitch snorted at the formality. “You can pet him, you can play with him… Just don’t tug on his fur and don’t be too rough.”

Finn was finding it very funny to try to ride the puppy like a pony.

“How do you play with him?” Timotheo asked, tentatively touching the dog’s nose.

Snowball immediately nuzzled his hand with a joyful bark. The puppy liked kids. He was always eager to play with the ones in the neighborhood. Bryden giggled when the puppy’s head bumped in his chest, the boy lost his balance and fell backward in the thin coat of snow, which seemed to delight him.

“Do not get dirty!” Tadius panicked. “Your mother and your grandmother won’t like that at all.” He shot a warning glance at Haymitch. “We should not let them get dirty.”

The boys both looked disappointed and Haymitch rolled his eyes. “You can blame it on me. Okay… How to play with a puppy, lesson one.”

He taught them how to play tug and fetch in front of a bemused Tadius who didn’t seem willing to get involved in the game. Haymitch didn’t mind running after the kids and the dog. He found it sad that the kids were forced to be so serious all the time because it was clear that, when they were allowed to go wild, they were just as boisterous as any other child he had met.

Eventually, Tadius reminded them they were supposed to visit the District and not spend their time in the yard and they all started walking in the direction of the Village’s gates. Haymitch watched the kids run along the puppy a few feet in front of them, feeling strangely impatient for a time when it would be his own boy.

“Do you have a lot of experience with children?” Tadius asked after a few seconds, either impressed or puzzled.

“More than I’d like.” he replied, deliberately vague.

He didn’t think Timotheo was much older than twelve, even if it was difficult to pinpoint an exact age for the two boys, and he had had his share of dealing with twelve years old. Never believing that the children had a chance had never meant he hadn’t somehow gotten involved in the mentoring at some point. Effie had borne most of it. But… There had been years and children more gifted than others at making him _care_ no matter how much he had wanted to pretend he hadn’t.

“Have you started looking into nannies or governesses?” the Capitol man asked.

He made a face. “We’re not getting one.”

“I see.” Tadius cleared his throat. “We would be willing to help if…”

“It’s not a money question, we just don’t want a nanny.” he interrupted him. He tried not to be too cutting. “We don’t need money.”

“Are you certain?” the man insisted. “Because I know for a fact Effie does not have any. I had to settle a few of her debts when she left the city. Not that she knew it was me, of course. Actually, Elindra does not know either and I would appreciate if…”

“No problem.” he promised easily enough. He waited for a second before speaking again. “And we really _don’t_ need money.” It would have angered him if anyone else had tried to meddle in his private affairs but, truth be told, he felt Tadius had a right to ask the question. He was about to marry the man’s daughter. Any father worthy of the title would have wanted to make sure the groom could support their daughter and eventual family. It was awkward, yes, but Haymitch didn’t consider it out of the normal range of things to ask a future son-in-law. “Life in Twelve isn’t expensive and victors still get their monthly stipends… I’ve saved almost everything I got since my Games anyway… Never had real need for it. So, sure, the baby made a dent in the budget but we’re _really_ not tight.”

“Good to hear.” Tadius approved with a nod. “Did you invest part of the money? You _should_ invest. I can help you with that if you wish.” Before he could _politely_ decline, the Capitol moved on to another topic. “Elindra and I will open a trust fund for your son as soon as he is born.” Haymitch opened his mouth but Tadius waved his hand. “Do not protest. We did it for all our grandchildren. They won’t come into the money until they are eighteen, at which point they will be able to use it however they see fit. I, for one, hope it will be for university although…” He sighed, his eyes on the boys that had obediently stopped at the Village’s gates to wait for them. “Timotheo and Bryden will both inherit a considerable wealth from their father at their coming of age and neither of them seemed to be eager to pursue a higher education. I had hoped one of my grandsons would take up the family business after I am gone but I fear they will follow in their father’s footsteps and become men of leisure.”

Haymitch studied the boys who looked in awe of the dog and frowned. “They’re still young.”

“They took very much after their parents.” Tadius shrugged. “Lyssandra never had any ambition and Rufus never had the means to reach his.” Regret laced his voice next. “I was too harsh with Effie in her youth. I underestimated her potential. I do not think she would have ever managed to be an architect like she wanted to… But she could have done more than capitalize on her looks.”

“She likes to play dumb.” he commented cautiously, waving the boys on as they caught up with them. Snowball darted forward and the kids ran after him, laughing all the while, sounding so _free_ that Haymitch understood that they weren’t often allowed to go wild like that.

“Yes, I understood that only too late.” Effie’s father agreed with a small sad smile. “I never knew my daughters as much as I would have liked. They were their mother’s dolls and all those beauty pageants and hot gossips… I am a businessman. I do not understand that world.”

“Can’t say I do either.” he snorted. “But Effie’s much more than that.”

He was a bit defensive and it seemed to amuse Tadius.

“Lyssa was the easiest one. Always eager to please… Always happy…” the Capitol man shook his head. “Effie was more difficult. Elindra is used to being obeyed in every little thing, Effie always found ways to work around that. When she was thirteen… Why, I used to marvel at the way she could talk back without actually rising her voice or being rude – when she was directing her ire at Elindra at least.”

“Sounds like my girl.” he smirked, stupidly proud of her for rebelling against her gilded cage even then.

“She used to have a terrible crush on you, you realize.” Tadius mocked. “You were all she could talk about from the Quell to your Victory Tour. We lost Elindra’s father some time in between… They were so close… It pained her very badly… The first time I saw her smile after his passing was when she got Golden Tickets for the Tour. Elindra wasn’t keen but Effie insisted on going to _every_ last event. Lyssa and I took turn escorting her. I cannot say I was a fan of it… All those young girls screaming at you…” 

“Yeah.” He made a face and buried his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t fond recollections for him, even if it amused him a little to know Effie had been amongst the crowd. “Can’t say I enjoyed it much myself.”

“I suppose not.” Effie’s father approved. “Still… The last event was a signing… I do not know what you said to her that day but she came home and declared she was utterly done with you.”

It was a part of the story he didn’t know about and he didn’t remember her at all. Why would he? She had only been a teenager amongst thousands. However he could guess he hadn’t been kind. It was only when Chaff had impressed upon him the necessity of playing nice with Capitols to get sponsors and help the tributes that he had started to behave a little less harshly.

“I don’t mind the trust fund.” he said, switching topics because he knew Effie would hate being discussed behind her back. “If it’s for the kid’s future, it’s fine with me.”

“I will settle it in his name as soon as he’s born.” Tadius offered, placidly accepting that new line of conversation. “ _Have_ you agreed on a name yet?”

“No.” Haymitch snorted. “We’ve got a list of _maybes_ but… None of them feels right.”

The playground appeared in the distance and they walked in silence for a while, watching the boys rushing toward it with the puppy in tow.

“May I suggest Aidan?” the Capitol said, a bit awkward. “It was my father’s name. If we had been blessed with a son… It has always been a dream of mine to see another Aidan Trinket running my company.”

“ _Abernathy_.” Haymitch corrected automatically. “And we’re not raising him up to fill anyone’s shoes. He’ll do whatever he wants. No family obligation.”

“Of course.” Tadius chuckled. “I didn’t mean to imply any different.”

There wasn’t really any time to give him an answer about names… It turned out taking two boys to the local playground was much more difficult than entertaining them in the front yard. Capitols and Districts didn’t mix well. It didn’t take long for Effie’s nephews to rub on some of the District children the wrong way and for an argument to start. It involved crying children, sulking spoiled brats and screaming mothers. Tadius was absolutely no help.

 When they eventually made their way back home, Haymitch was nursing a bad headache and wasn’t as eager for the shrimp to come out. As long as he remained in Effie’s uterus, there would be no tantrums and no screwing up.

Despite the not so awesome end to the outing, the boys seemed to have taken a real liking to him and didn’t act as stiff around Tadius as they used to – something which seemed to make the Capitol man marvel.

Effie was having tea with Lyssandra and Elindra and the three of them all looked impressed enough by the fact they had brought back both children in one piece. It made him feel _slightly_ better. At least until he and Snowball were forced to try on the suits they had brought along for the wedding.

He grumbled and raged and complained and even _whined_ but Elindra wouldn’t be deterred and Effie didn’t save him from his fate. She was too busy fussing over the puppy with her sister – because clearly it was more important to make sure the bowtie fitted Snowball perfectly rather than saving him from her mother’s claws.

Getting married, he soon decided, was exhausting and it was a good thing they would only do it once.

By the time they finally went to bed that night, he was ready to give up on the whole thing.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, spooning her. She was still having trouble finding a comfortable position at night and she had taken to propping her stomach on pillows. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss on her shoulder. “You were supposed to take it easy.”

She sighed and burrowed a little more against his chest. “Well, if I had had more time to organize the wedding…”

“Wanna get out of it?” he challenged.

“Don’t you dare.” she hissed. “Now I have a _perfect_ dress.”

She sounded very pleased about that.  

He hid his smirk in her nape, simply happy that she was happy.

“Your dad had some things to say…” he told her because he didn’t keep things from her if he didn’t have to. He summed up the conversation about the trust fund. She didn’t look surprised though, she was probably aware of the same dispositions having been made for her nephews.

“It will be nice for him.” she hummed, rubbing her stomach. “They did the same thing for Lyssa and I. We had both already started working well before our coming of age but the money was a nice plus.”

Haymitch let out a non committing noise. He didn’t like the idea of growing up with a silver spoon in the mouth but he also couldn’t deny knowing their child would be safe from poverty was a relief. He had grown up in a world without certainty and he didn’t want that for his son.

“He suggested a name.” he added, as an afterthought.

“Yes?” she frowned. “Which one? My mother suggested Eustorgio and you vetoed it.”

“Aidan.” he said.

“Like my grandfather?” she asked, drawing circles on her baby bump. “I never knew him, you know. He died when Lyssa was two or three…”

“I like the name.” he admitted. It wasn’t outrageous for a Capitol name and it was strong. It was a good sensible name. He could see himself calling his son Aidan.

“It sounds… close to Hayden.” she pointed out carefully.

Close but not quite.

It hadn’t escaped him.

It was close enough that it could be consider a wink of sort but it was far enough that the name wouldn’t carry any memory.

“I’m good with it.” he offered.

“Aidan…” she repeated, testing it out. “Aidan… Yes… Yes, it could work. Aidan…” She groaned and he figured that meant she had been kicked. She let out a chuckle, talking to her stomach. “Well. If you approve…”  

“Aidan.” he smiled, covering her hand with his.

“Aidan.” she grinned, stretching her neck to kiss him over her shoulder.

It seemed the shrimp had a name after all.


	26. Thirty Weeks (2)

Effie reverently ran her hand on the white fabric, soothing imaginary creases from the fabric, while Lyssandra finished adjusting the lacing at the back. The dress was simple enough. The bustier was finely crafted out of lace and crepe, there were enticing spirals and arabesques on the fabric. It was fitted under her breasts with a large blue ribbon with a darling bow on her right side. The lower part flooded to the floor, ornate at the back with a line of blue buttons in the direct prolongation of her spine.

It would have been pointless and rather ridiculous to try to hide how pregnant she was and she rather liked how the dress flooded around her stomach, neither hugging it nor flaunting it but not trying to make it disappear either. It was comfortable too, which was always a plus, and it was long enough to hide that she wouldn’t be wearing heels – she _would_ have but her feet were far too swollen.

Her hair was tied up in a fancy bun of curls that were threatening to stumble down her neck. Strands brushed against her nape at the merest movement and she knew Haymitch would love it. No question asked.

She was wearing more make-up than usual but she had been very specific in what she wanted and Lyssa had been good enough to follow her instructions to the letter and it looked exactly like she had pictured it. It wasn’t too… _Capitol._

“All done.” Lyssa declared, tugging a little on the bustier to make sure it was secure. She smiled at her in the mirror mounted on the wardrobe door. “You look lovely, darling.”

Effie smiled back, pleased with the result.

From all the dresses they had brought along, this one had been an instant favorite. It was often said that a woman _knew_ her wedding dress at first glance. Well… For her it had certainly been true. The moment her eyes had fallen on the dress, she had been adamant she wanted that one. Even if her mother would have preferred for her to choose one of the fancier cream-colored ones – getting married in white when you were almost eight months pregnant was apparently not done.

Her fingers were shaking a little where they rested on either side of her stomach and she wondered how Haymitch was faring over at Katniss and Peeta’s. She had no doubt they would manage to make him presentable – if only because she had left _strict_ instructions to Peeta to supervise the whole thing, not trusting Johanna in the slightest – but she was curious about his state of mind. If _she_ was nervous…

“We can still make a run for it.” Lyssandra suggested, only half joking. “You could be back in the Capitol by tomorrow morning.”

The thought was not only unappealing, it was terrifying.

“I love him.” she said softly, instinctively stroking her bare finger. She would wear a wedding band soon.

“I know you do but, darling…” Lyssa hesitated, her face crumpling. “Are you certain? A hundred percent certain? This District… I do not know how you can bear to live here. A whole life of this… Effie…”

“I do not expect you to understand but I love this life.” she cut her sister off firmly, then she softened a little, blinking back tears she blamed her hormones for. “I know we had our differences…”

“Not today.” Lyssandra refused straight out, waving a dismissive hand. She hesitated a second and then sighed. “And truly… I have made my peace with what happened during the war. My new boyfriend… Leo… He is very good with the children and… he makes me happy. I honestly did not think I could be this happy again.”

Effie’s smile was sincere and she pressed her sister’s hand. “I am happy for you.”

“So am I for you.” Lyssa said, equally sincerely, reaching for her stomach and dropping her hand at the last possible moment, probably not wanting to risk staining it. “Alright now. Enough of this.” Her sister beamed. “Now. You have something blue…” She pointed to the ribbon around her waist before taking off her pearl earrings and putting them on Effie without asking first. “Those were Grandmother’s and they are my favorite so I expect them back. It should do for something old and borrowed…”

“Only missing something new.” Effie grinned, pleased that her sister had remembered. She didn’t think that tradition had made it to the Districts. Katniss and Annie had made no mention of it when they had declared they would wait for them downstairs while Lyssa, as maid of honor, helped Effie into her dress.

“Aren’t we just?” her sister teased, a spark of mischief in her eyes. She left Effie in front of the mirror to pull something out of her purse. It was a rectangular box, wrapped in silver paper with a pink ribbon coiled around it. Lyssa handed it to her with an amused smile. “Whatever this is, it should do the trick.”

“Whatever this is?” Effie repeated, confused, turning the box around in her hands. “Isn’t it from you?”

“I am only the messenger, I am afraid.” her sister chuckled. “Haymitch gave it to me this morning. I am to pass it along.”

“Haymitch?” Now that was _puzzling_. Haymitch didn’t really do gifts or romantic gestures. The present was too well wrapped for him to have done it, which meant it either came from a shop or he had enlisted someone’s help to do it. Knowing Haymitch like she did, she was betting on the former.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Lyssa prompted, looking rather excited by the mystery. For a second, Effie felt as if they were little girls again, snooping around their mother’s room, trying wigs and shoes they weren’t allowed to touch.

She carefully undid the ribbon and placed it aside for safekeeping before doing the same with the silver wrapping paper. She almost dropped the card. It was a simple piece of paper folded in four and his handwriting was atrocious as ever.

_Should have told you it was a nice dress._

_See you later, sweetheart._

_H._

The velvet box was red and she was certain it came from the only jewelry shop in Twelve. They mostly did custom orders and so she was eager when she propped the lid open, curious and confused by the message.

Right until she caught sight of the necklace, at least.

It was… _Lovely_ wasn’t enough of a word to describe it.

The butterfly was chiseled to look like it was flying, the four sapphires filled the four wings, and it was absolutely exquisite. There was no way they could have designed and crafted it in a week, it must have been ordered a long time ago.

She had had no idea he even remembered that butterfly dress… But maybe it wasn’t just about the dress… Butterflies… Symbol of hope and rebirth… There and gone in a moment… So fragile and yet so beautiful… The dress had been one of Portia’s best work. Cinna wasn’t the only one who could wrought metaphors into his designs. 

“Help me?” she whispered, barely glancing at Lyssa, too much in awe of her new piece of jewelry.

The rigid silver spirals supporting the butterfly made it even more special, she realized the wings were articulated and would move with her every movement. It wasn’t made to simply dangle, it was a masterpiece. Once the necklace was on, the butterfly rested on her collarbone, catching the light, making it look as if it was a real breathing thing. Every time she took a breath, the wings moved. The effect was dazzling.

The sapphires matched the blue of the ribbon almost perfectly.

“Well…” Lyssa commented. “He certainly cares about you.”

She didn’t need such expensive gifts to know that but gestures of this kind were so rare that she could only grin wide. “Let’s go. I want to get married.”

Her nervousness was completely gone.

Both Katniss and Annie stood up and abandoned their cups of tea when Effie walked in the kitchen – making an effort not to _waddle_ too much – and fussed over her like bridesmaids should fuss over the bride. Katniss was going out of her way to not be her sullen self and Effie appreciated that even more.

“Is that from Haymitch?” the girl asked, pointing at the necklace, while Annie and Lyssa made sure her bouquet wouldn’t drip all over her dress.

Effie brushed her fingers against the butterfly, the silver had warmed at the contact of her skin and she couldn’t help a dreamy smile. “How did you know?”

“I saw sketches.” Katniss shrugged. “He asked Peeta to help him with the design.”

So it _was_ custom made.

“Thank him for me, will you?” Her lips were starting to hurt from how hard she was grinning. “It is lovely.”

“Better be.” the girl scoffed. “Haymitch made him draw a hundred of butterflies before he decided on one.”

It pleased her that he had put so much thoughts into this. She hadn’t been expecting it and it made the surprise even sweeter.

Katniss and Lyssa forced her to sit down because it wasn’t quite time to go yet – Haymitch and the guests were supposed to arrive at the Justice Building first – and she was pacing, impatient and eager all at once.

She was the first one in her coat when it was finally time – a white fur coat that made her look like a polar bear, that might _have been_ a polar bear once,  that her mother had given her as a wedding present. She hadn’t wanted a wedding dress with sleeves but it was out of the question for her to walk around the District in late February in a bustier dress. Her bridesmaids all seemed amused by her impatience, even Katniss.

Getting from the house to the car her father had insisted on renting for her was difficult, mostly because she refused to stain or wet her dress but she didn’t want to bundled it either, so it took a lot of work on Katniss and Annie’s part to take her from point A to point B.

She held Katniss’ hand tight during the car drive, to the girl’s fond annoyance. Katniss allowed it though, probably because she could see the nervousness creeping back. Effie was working on her breathing, trying to keep it even and deep like all the books about pregnancy recommended it.

The Square was swarming with people and she didn’t understand what was going on because it wasn’t market day and it was _never_ that busy otherwise.

“Oh no…” Lyssa lamented, catching up a second before her.

To be fair though, it had been years since Effie had been forced to face something like _that_.

She felt Katniss and Annie tensing, both brought back to dark times, and she barely had time to brace herself before the car’s door was brutally opened and Peeta’s upper body appeared, blocking most of the view, a frown on his face.

“We’re going to take each of you inside in turns.” the boy declared. “Effie, you will go last, okay? Haymitch is _furious_.”

Furious would be a mild term for it, she was ready to believe. _Seething_ would be a better one. She tried to hide her face behind her bouquet but the car was besieged with journalists, flashes blinded her and she felt her heart starting to race in her chest. Katniss was the first one to leave the car, tucked against Peeta’s side.

“Was it Mother’s doing?” she asked, in a cold voice.

It would have been just like Elindra to warn the press.

The publicity, the five minutes of fame it would have allowed her, the benefits she thought her daughters could derive from it…

“I do not think so.” Lyssa hesitated, sounding genuinely thrown. She reached out and squeezed her hand. “She has _truly_ been committed to minding bridges… I do not think she would do this today of all days. I _really_ do not.”

“They always find out.” Annie piped in, rocking a little on herself. “That’s what Finnick used to say. The monster is hungry. The monster…”

“Feed the monster.” Effie whispered, rubbing her face and immediately regretting it.

By the time Peeta came back to escort Annie inside, Lyssa had already helped her correct that mistake. Her make-up once again perfect, she let out a deep sigh.

“Haymitch must hate this.” she commented.

“They cannot enter the Victors’ Village, can they?” Lyssa worried, rubbing her knuckles. “You will be safe soon.”

“Will I?” she hummed. “They will never stop. We will always be who we are.”

Just as she had been telling Haymitch all along…

She rubbed her stomach and let out another sigh. “I do not intend to be ushered inside like a criminal who feels compelled to hide. Not on my wedding day.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “Will you come with me?”

Lyssa glanced at the crowd outside, never having been one for this kind of things. Her sister had been famous in her own right before the war, first for her modeling years then for being one of the wealthiest woman in the Capitol, but she had never really liked the pump that came with it. When Effie had thrived in the spotlights, Lyssa had always preferred the quiet shadows. It had always been very ironical because Lyssa could not go anywhere without attracting attention.

“I am not sure it is wise.” her sister pointed out.

“It is not.” she confirmed. “But I am done hiding.”

She opened the car’s door to a myriad of flashes. They seemed taken aback when she stepped out, her chin high, an automatic smile slipping on her lips, reflex from a life long gone. There weren’t only journalists, she realized quickly, but also bystanders, former fans perhaps… It was quite a crowd and she immediately felt dizzy, all the more so when it closed on her.

_Miss Trinket, is this a publicity stunt?_

_Miss Trinket, did you really kill a man?_

_Miss Trinket, are you still pregnant?_

_Miss Trinket, how far along are you?_

_Is Haymitch the father?_

_What will you call the child?_

_Miss Trinket, are the rumors true and are you being a surrogate for the Mellarks?_

_Are you marrying Haymitch because of the pregnancy?_

_Do you regret your actions as an escort?_

_Is it true you were assaulted because of…_

“Either I am still pregnant or I got really fat without my noticing.” she declared, answering the only question she knew how to tackle with a dazzling smile, placing a hand on her stomach. It warranted a few laughs but the journalists were now silent, jutting mics and cameras closer, eager to catch her every word. “Haymitch and I are _amazed_ by the interest you have showed us recently.” she said, carefully choosing her phrasing. “However, we are not public figures anymore and we would appreciate it greatly if you would respect our privacy, if not for us then for our child. We are very ordinary people with a very boring life… Certainly, there are people more worthy of attention elsewhere?”

_Are you getting married because you’re pregnant?_

The question fused from afar, anonymous in the crowd that was pressing her against the car. Lyssa was clinging to her hand, a silent figure of support.

“We are getting married because we love each other and we wish to do thing properly.” she answered firmly.

_Do your family approve the match? Are you and Lyssandra Flavershym on speaking terms again?_

“We fully support my sister as we always did.” Lyssa retorted. “Our personal relationship has known high and low points and I am sure every siblings in Panem can relate to that.”

_Do you understand why flaunting your wedding and pregnancy can disturb some people?_

“I did not _flaunt_ anything.” Effie retorted. “We are having a private ceremony and we otherwise keep to ourselves. We have asked _repeatedly_ for privacy and…”

_Is it a boy or a girl?_

“Effie, what you are trying to do is very noble but it is of no use.” Lyssa whispered, close to her ear. “They won’t go away.”

She knew that.

She had been a master at PR after all. But she wished… She wished…

It wasn’t Peeta who made his way through the crowd but Haymitch and he wasn’t self-conscious about shoving people out of the way. He looked both worried and disapproving when he reached her, automatically placing a hand on her stomach – something that triggered a lot of flashes.

“They’re airing this live.” he growled with a dark glare around. “I’m gonna _kill_ Plutarch.”

“It is how the game is played.” she sighed. “You cannot blame him.”

_Mr Abernathy, are you marrying Effie because of the pregnancy?_

_Haymitch, what do you make of the claims that marrying an escort is a disgrace for a victor?_

_Did you really get pardoned because you were Haymitch’s lover, Effie?_

“Peacekeepers are on their way.” he declared to the crowd. “So let us _through_.”

He tugged her forward, shielding her with his body as he pushed people aside and guided her to the Justice Building. All their guests plus the mayor were waiting in the hall, looking either peeved, annoyed or worried.

“Are you alright, my dears?” her father immediately asked, grabbing Lyssa’s shoulder but keeping his eyes on Effie. She shed her coat as if nothing of import had happened and handed it to Annie.

“We are fine, Father.” her sister offered.

“It wasn’t me.” Elindra pleaded, clasping Effie’s hand. “Your victor thought… It wasn’t me…”

“Everyone was sure you would get hitched eventually anyway.” Johanna grumbled.

“It does not matter.” Effie declared, clapping her hand once. “Nobody will ruin my wedding day. We are behind schedule. Let’s all get to our place, shall we?”

She was approved by a joyful bark and she looked down to smile at the puppy whose leash Bryden was proudly holding. Snowball’s blue bow-tie looked so cute…

“You are so very dashing, my pretty baby…” she cooed. “Perhaps it is you I should marry.”

The puppy barked again, struggling against the leash to get to her, but Elindra ushered everyone inside before he could manage.

“Haymitch!” her mother snapped, once everyone but her father had left the hall to gather in the room reserved for weddings.

“Coming.” he snarled right back, prompting Elindra to huff and disappear inside. He glanced at Tadius but her father was doing a very good job of admiring the ornate ceiling and pretending not to be there. “Should have waited inside the car for the boy.” he accused in a low angry voice. “You could have gotten hurt.”

“I am the bride and I intend to enjoy my day.” she countered. “I hoped an official statement would calm things down. Besides, I knew you would rescue me. You always do.”

He pursed his lips in irritation. “You’re pregnant and…”

“Am I? It escaped my notice.” she deadpanned before shaking her head. “Let’s not argue right before we get married, Haymitch.”

Some of his annoyance seemed to melt and his mouth twitched. “We argue all the time. I’d worry the day we stop, sweetheart.”

“Point.” she conceded. “Nevertheless, I think today is eventful enough without adding to it, wouldn’t you say?”

He shrugged but he was smirking now. “Nice dress, by the way.”

“ _Finally_ you learned how to compliment a lady” she teased, brushing her fingers against the butterfly on her collarbone. “Thank you for this. I love it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward as always when he was caught in a show of _feelings_.

“Was saving it for the birth.” he admitted. “But… Today seems like the right time.”

“It is _perfect_.” she grinned, raising on tip toe to press a kiss on his lips. She kept it chaste, mainly because her father _was_ standing only a few feet away but she hoped he caught the promise of _later_ in her eyes.

“Let’s get this over with.” he snorted, as she rubbed his mouth with her thumb to take off the traces of lipsticks she had just left.

“After you.” she teased, pointing at the double doors.

He caught her wrist and pressed a kiss on her pulse point. “See you inside, sweetheart.”

“If I do not run.” she teased.

“If you run, I’ll come after you.” he shrugged matter-of-factly, a twinkle in his eyes. “The state you’re in though… Won’t be hard to catch up.”

“Awful man, reminding me I am huge on my wedding day.” she chuckled.

“Maybe if you _roll_ down the street…” he mocked as a parting word.

She rolled her eyes at his back and turned to her father, holding out her arm.  “Shall we?”

Tadius was clearly trying to suppress his smile but he briefly bowed at her in compliance and took her arm, gently guiding her toward the room. “I must say I am happy you did not pick a boring one.”

“Haymitch is _never_ boring, that is for sure.” she agreed easily. If she hadn’t been carrying a bouquet, she might have rubbed her stomach. “Father, you should know… We agreed on a name. We are calling him Aidan.”

“Aidan Abernathy.” Tadius repeated with an obvious proud smile. Effie couldn’t remember him ever looking at him with so much pride. “That is a _fine_ strong name.” He leaned in to hesitantly peck her cheek. “Thank you, darling. You please an old man.”

She hadn’t done it primly to please her father but it was a nice bonus. Aidan was the first name they both agreed on and the search had been too difficult so far to simply dismiss that. Besides, it really _was_ a good name and she liked it.

With a squeeze of her arm, Tadius reminded her they should keep walking and they finally stepped inside the room dedicated to weddings. It wasn’t big but with so few people inside, it looked huge and empty.

Effie didn’t mind.

The ceremony passed in a flash.

Weddings at a Justice Building were the same everywhere in Panem, saved for very few special circumstances, they tended not to be emotional or moving. Effie remembered smiling a lot, mainly at Haymitch, a bit bothered by the violent kicking of the baby. They exchanged _I do_ s and signed the papers, quickly followed by their witnesses: Johanna, Peeta, Lyssa and Katniss. Then they exchanged the rings – a plain white gold band for him and a wrought white gold band with a shiny diamond for her. Everyone clapped. Snowball barked his heart’s content. They kissed.

She felt a bit dazzled when Haymitch guided her out of the room. They had to cross the crowd outside to the car once more but Peacekeepers _had_ arrived and it was a little more manageable.

“You’re okay?” he worried, once they were in the car and it was moving toward the Village.

“I will feel better once I have eaten something.” she winced, rubbing her stomach soothingly. “I am a bit dizzy.”

“Too much excitement.” He made a face, guilt written all over his features. “It was too much. I shouldn’t have insisted for…”

“Haymitch, if you say you somehow, for any reason including my pregnancy, regret marrying me I will push you out of the car while it is still moving.” she warned.

His lips twitched but he relaxed a little, pressing a kiss on her collarbone, right over the butterfly. “You’re really beautiful.”

“Flattery won’t get you off the hook.” she retorted but she was smiling and she didn’t resist when he kissed her for real.

They were so busy kissing she almost missed the moment when they passed the Village’s gates. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized they were safe from unwanted attention now though. No one from the press would risk entering it. It had been established since the end of the war that the Village was the Mockingjay’s haven and that anyone caught trespassing _would_ get hurt. Badly. Nobody had ever tried. Plutarch was good at making this rule stick anyway. 

They were the first one back in the house and she estimated that it would take a good fifteen minutes for the others to come back by foot. Still kissing, they gravitated toward the living-room and the comfortable couch.

“You think we have time for a quickie?” he mumbled against her lips, letting his left hand wander to her breast.

She didn’t know how he could still want her when she looked like a cow but she wasn’t going to complain.

“Usually I would say yes.” she chuckled. “But given how long it took me to fit in the dress… It would perhaps be wiser to wait until later.”

He pouted, clearly disappointed, but didn’t insist.

It had been the right call because the wedding party showed up only ten minutes later. Everyone was very excited and the children were making a lot of noise. They were having a dinner in the dining room to celebrate – a room she usually only enter to clean because they took all their meals in the kitchen and she wondered if they couldn’t do something else with it since they hardly ever received people and she couldn’t see that changing in the near future. Effie and Haymitch kept to sparkling apple juice but she caught the longing glances he was giving the bottles of champagne and she wished Elindra had listened to her when she had said no alcohol.

He never touched any though.

Mostly he held her hand under the table, out of sight, and rubbed his thumb on her knuckles, often playing with her brand new wedding ring.

It was a lively party that went on well into the evening, there was a lot of laughter and very few snide comments from her mother. Everyone cheered and clapped when they revealed the baby’s name… All in all, it was a success.

Effie was still happy when it came to an end.

Saying goodnight to everyone took a long time. The children were the last to go. Katniss treated her to a rare hug and Peeta kissed her cheek with a bright happy smile.

“I left the bread in the kitchen.” the boy told Haymitch when he hugged him goodbye.

Effie wandered to the living-room, leaving the details of the Toasting to him. There were no real rules about it. Public or private was left to the couple’s choice – and given that the official wedding had been public, she hadn’t been surprised when he had requested this part to be private. She was drifting off on the couch, Snowball curled up next to her, when Haymitch placed his hand on her shoulder.

She startled a little but immediately gave him a soft smile. “My apologies. I am more tired than I thought.”

“We can do this tomorrow if you want to sleep…” he frowned, concerned. “You should get some rest.”

“I will be fine.” she promised, guiding his hand to her stomach. “He isn’t even kicking for once.”

“Must be asleep.” he supposed, reverently kissing the bump. “Good boy for not kicking Mama too much.”

She ran her fingers in Haymitch’s hair, absentmindedly trying to put some order in it. He had lost the jacket long ago and his waistcoat was now open over a white shirt which had the first four buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. That was how she liked him best and she was suddenly a lot less tired.

“You are really dashing tonight.” she purred.

He smirked at her, recognizing her tone for what it was, grey eyes sparkling. “Toasting first, sweetheart.”

“If we must.” she grinned.

He had everything ready and he helped her sit down on the floor in front of the fireplace – something she argued might not have been a good idea because who knew how they would get her up again. Snowball lifted his head to see what they were doing then jumped to investigate further when he realized food was involved. He eventually went to his own bed, not quite interested by the bread. Munching on his purple stuffed monkey was much more satisfying, it seemed.

They built the fire together, as was the custom and then shared the bread. Haymitch went first, making sure the piece of toast was golden and crispy before blowing on it to cool it down a little.

“We’re not doing vows.” he muttered, bringing it to her mouth. “But… Look… I’m gonna protect you and the shrimp with everything I’ve got. As long as I have a breath in my body, I’ll keep you safe. I’m never gonna abandon you. _Ever_. ‘Cause you’re my family. You’ve been my family for a long time, Effie, and I…” He made a face. “I love you. Now, eat the _damn_ toast.”

She dutifully took a bite, trying not to smile too obviously but failing.

“Such a way with words, Haymitch…” she teased. He rolled his eyes at her but helped her _not_ burn her piece of toast. It was still on the charred side when she took it out from over the fire. “We said no vows but I still vow to love you. _Always_.” She smiled fondly when he took a huge bite of the toast and munched on it. She brushed her thumb against his lips to catch crumbs. “Husband.” she whispered because it was tradition, the only part of the Toasting she was familiar with.

“Wife.” he answered immediately, with so much pride that she felt her heart ready to burst with warmth.

“Take me to bed, Mr Abernathy.” she demanded with a grin.

“Sure thing, Mrs Abernathy.” he snorted, clearly humoring her, leaning in for a kiss.

With such a good start, she was certain she was going to love  being Mrs Abernathy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the inspiration for Effie's dress here http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-quQrIGBT5is/UwEaRMGm7_I/AAAAAAAAJdo/Mb9HLyw7pj8/s1600/maternity+wedding+dresses+1.jpg (or at the end of the tumblr post)


	27. Thirty-One Weeks

Haymitch was in _hell_.

Baby showers were _no_ fun.

He had naively thought the wedding would mark the end of the Trinkets’ visit. _Naively_. It had turned out that, while Tadius had needed to go back to the Capitol for business, Lyssandra, Elindra and the kids were perfectly happy to stay a while longer – although the kids were mostly under the nanny’s supervision. It had been Elindra’s idea to take advantage of Annie’s and Johanna’s presence to throw an impromptu baby shower – although it might not have been _that_ impromptu because gifts and presents had been in their trunks – which was how Haymitch had found himself stuck in a room full of women.

Liam Clarke had tried to get him out of it by inviting him for a coffee but Effie had told him under no uncertain terms the shower was for Aidan and _thus_ for the both of them and that she wouldn’t have him being rude by skipping the party.

His only consolation was that Johanna and Katniss seemed as _overjoyed_ was he was. The two of them were sitting a bit apart from the others and regularly exchanged eye rolls and sarcastic smirks. Haymitch had chosen to stand between the couch and the window so he could at least have some distraction and had flat out refused to partake in the games the Capitols had planned.

Decorating your own romper?

A diaper change competition?

What sort of games were those?

And _when_ had Elindra or Lyssandra _ever_ changed a diaper?

Effie was having a blast though, so he kept his peace about how stupid the whole thing was.

“Now, ladies, it is time for gifts!” Elindra declared, tossing him a pointed glance.

Effie’s smile was softer when she patted the empty spot next to her on the couch. With a deep sigh and a glare for Johanna, whose snickers weren’t appreciated, he dutifully took his seat next to his wife while the others gathered their presents.

His eyes fell on the diamond on her finger and it made him relax. The marriage was only five days old and he still got a thrill out of thinking about her being his _wife_. He had always thought a wedding would be more of a formality than anything else but he had to admit he was enjoying the idea of _belonging_ that went with it. He belonged to her and she belonged to him. They were a family in every sense of the term now.

She discreetly brushed her lips against his cheek. “Just a little while longer and you can safely make your escape. Do remember to rescue Katniss, the poor dear will roll her eyes out of her skull.”

“Not Jo?” he asked, in a low voice that didn’t carry much further.

“Jo can suffer a bit longer.” she countered. She flashed him a grin full of mischief and he couldn’t help but chuckle, always a bit mystified by their strange friendship.

Katniss was actually the first to hand a gift, as if it could get her out of there quicker.

“It’s from Peeta.” she told them. “For the baby’s room.”

The boy would have enjoyed the party a lot more than the girl had but he was stuck at the bakery. The reopening was imminent and it had become a priority.

Peeta had painted a stunning view of the Capitol by night. Haymitch wasn’t sure it would fit in the nursery and, given Effie’s grateful but slightly tense smile, she agreed. They would figure that out later, he guessed.

Eileen Clarke’s gift was a sort of sling that had Annie and Jo nodding to each other as if it was the most practical thing. It completely threw Katniss and the two Capitol women. It turned out, it was sturdy fabric that allowed to safely carry the baby while leaving both hands free and, it seemed, it was also helpful when the infant needed feeding.

“I have never seen something like this in my life.” Lyssa frowned, inspecting the embroidered white fabric with obvious interest. “Very ingenious…”

“I guess you can only find them in the Districts…” Eileen ventured with a shrug that soon turned into a smile. “Anyway, it will be your best friend, Effie, trust me. And you can use it too, Haymitch.”

He let out a non-committing noise and snatched the baby sling as soon as they had moved on to Elindra’s gift – a complete set of baby plates, cutlery and small cups made out of silver that he preferred to ignore.

“Talk about being born with a silver spoon in his mouth.” he grumbled for Effie’s ear only.

He was painfully – _accidentally_ – elbowed in the side for his trouble.

“How lovely, Mother!” she exclaimed in her fake cheerful voice, studying every piece with attention.

Haymitch chose to examine the baby sling instead, testing the fabric to make sure it would hold. It seemed resistant enough…

“The baby won’t fall.” Annie told him knowingly. “It is _very_ useful. That’s a really nice gift.”

Eileen smiled warmly at her and Four’s victor shyly withdrew a little, still uncomfortable in a crowd – and with so many people in their living-room, it _was_ a crowd.

“That’s from Annie and me.” Johanna mumbled, putting a term to the Capitols gushing over the ridiculous silver set. She tossed the wrapped box in Effie’s direction and Haymitch immediately dropped the sling to intercept it before it could do something harmful – like _hit her stomach_. Seven’s victor snickered. “Nice reflexes, old man.”

“Watch it.” he snarled, placing a protective hand on the baby bump.

It was soon covered by Effie’s. “I am fine. Do not be rude.”

“Rude?” he repeated, baffled. “She could have…”

“I am _fine_.” she insisted firmly. “Now, open the box.”

He tore the paper away, paying no mind to Elindra’s chiding about unwrapping gifts properly, and stared at the box in complete puzzlement.

“What _the fuck_ is a breast pump?” he asked the room at large, handing the box to Effie in case she had a better idea than he had.

“We didn’t know if you were planning on breastfeeding…” Annie hesitated. “But we thought… Just in case…”

“Perfect gift for a cow.” Jo added with a pleased grin at her own joke.

Haymitch’s eyes widened when he realized what the machine’s purpose was and then he made a face, snatching the box back as if to better protect her from the torture tool. “But it’s gotta hurt like a _bitch_. She can do it the normal way.”

“You sweet innocent man.” Eileen chuckled.

Lyssa openly shuddered. “I tried breastfeeding once, then we decided to switch to formula.”

“Is it that painful?” Effie frowned with a bit of apprehension.

“It does not matter.” Elindra swiftly cut in. “No need to torture yourself and deform your breasts with that. We are not in barbaric times. Formula is just as good. Both Lyssandra and you were brought up that way and you turned out perfectly alright.”

“Books say it’s healthier if the mother breastfeeds.” Haymitch argued, flushing a nice shade of crimson because the last thing he wanted was to discuss that sort of things in a room full of women.

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one who will end up being sucked on.” Jo snorted.

Effie was becoming jittery and Eileen leaned over to squeeze her hand.

“We’re scaring you for nothing.” the woman said, sounding reassuring. “It’s not that bad. It’s different for everyone anyway.”

“Oh, yes!” Lyssa hurried in agreeing, clearly noticing her sister’s tension. “And, in any case, nothing can be as bad as the birth itself.”

Effie grew white but bravely smiled all the same. “And how bad is _that_?”

“It is bad until they allow you the drugs.” Lyssa wisely nodded.

“The drugs are the best.” Eileen agreed.

“It was a relief.” Annie concurred, a bit dreamily.

“It was good stuff.” Jo snorted. Haymitch didn’t ask how she knew that, he figured she must have stolen some.

“I am having a home delivery.” Effie announced.

All the women save from Katniss, who looked bored and confused, paled except for Elindra who audibly _gasped_.

“You _cannot_ be serious, Euphemia.” her mother stuttered. Haymitch automatically reached for Effie’s hand for support. She clung to it. “It is _not_ safe. And the pain… You won’t be able to stand the pain, trust me.”

“I can handle a lot of pain.” Effie retorted, probably vexed. “I have had a lot of practice in that department.”

Everyone fidgeted, ill at ease with that reminder of the war, but Elindra stood steadfast, her lips pursed and her arms folded. “I absolutely _forbid_ it.”

Haymitch scoffed. “You think you can give orders under _my_ roof, lady?”

“I am her mother.” Elindra hissed. “And I won’t see her get through an unnecessary painful and traumatizing ordeal when there is a perfectly viable alternative. I am _astounded_ you would stand for this ridiculous decision, Haymitch. _Home_ _delivery_! In this day and age! Why, pray tell, won’t you have this child in a hospital like everyone else?”

“Because she _can’t_.” Katniss spat, glaring at the woman. “She’s strong and we’ll be with her. Leave her alone.”

“Thank you, dear.” Effie cleared her throat. “Do not work yourself up for this. It is not worth it.”

“Home deliveries are a lot more common than you’d think.” Eileen interjected, clearly uncomfortable with the blunder that had just been committed. “And it’s _natural_.”

“What does she mean _you can’t_?” Elindra frowned, refusing to take the hint.

“Can you drop it already?” Haymitch growled.

“Would you mind your manners?” the woman deadpanned. “I am not talking to _you, your_ negligence in this matter flabbergasts me. I would have expected you to be the first to demand a safe delivery for mother _and_ child. You…”

“It is not Haymitch’s decision to take, it is mine.” Effie snapped, squeezing Haymitch’s hand as if by reflex.

“It is a preposterous decision.” her mother huffed.

“Perhaps, but it is _mine_.” she scowled.

“And am I obliged to _simply_ accept a decision you cannot even properly justify?” Elindra bristled. “If you do not trust the local hospital, something I cannot fault you for, perhaps you _should_ consider coming back to the city with us for the last couple of months. I _do_ apologize, Euphemia, but I am not exactly reassured by the idea of you…”

“She can’t go to a hospital without having a panic attack or a flashback.” Katniss hissed, bolting to her feet in anger. “And she’s not getting _anywhere_ near the Capitol. Back _off_.”

That declaration was followed by a heavy silence and Haymitch clucked his tongue once against his cheek in irritation. He was annoyed both by the situation and by Katniss who had just blurted out something that wasn’t exactly public knowledge.

It had the benefit of calming Elindra though. The woman looked subdued now, staring at her daughter with a mask of detachment that badly hid her worry and pain. Not that Haymitch cared about how she felt. Effie was clearly upset by the whole ordeal and anyone who upset Effie would have to answer to him.

Katniss was panting, glaring at Effie’s mother, her hands curled into fists…

“Perhaps you should go get some fresh air, Katniss.” Effie suggested calmly, as if nothing was amiss. He heard the steel in her voice though, the touch of irritation. The girl looked at her and then stormed out. She winced and released his hand. “You should follow her.” she told him. “Make sure she is alright.”

“She doesn’t need me.” he grumbled. “You do.”

“She _always_ needs you.” she countered softly. “And I am a big girl who can handle herself. Go.” Johanna stood up but Effie glared at her. “ _You_ , sit back down, there are still gifts to unwrap.” She flashed them all a fake bright smile. “Now, Lyssa, I do believe it’s your turn…”

Haymitch hesitated for a few seconds and then, when he was sure she _truly_ would be fine, he made his escape. Once outside, he immediately glanced around for Snowball before remembering that the puppy was with Lyssa’s kids – they asked if they could babysit him during the party and since they had always been respectful of the dog, he had found no objection to the three of them playing together. Tracking Katniss down wasn’t really difficult with or without the puppy though. He might not have been much of a hunter but the boots tracks in the muddy streets that went in the direction of the woods were a good clue.

He caught up with the girl long before she even reached the first tree.

“Care to explain what that was?” he asked, taking pain to keep his voice light.

Katniss violently kicked a pebble out of the way.

“I _hate_ those people.” she snarled. “I don’t get why they’re still here. We don’t need them.”

“ _We_ don’t.” he shrugged. “Effie does. They’re her family.”

“ _We’_ re her family.” she snapped. “ _We_ ’re her _family_ and they want to take her away from us, don’t you get it?”

“Katniss…” he sighed, trying to keep up as she ducked under the branch of a low tree and entered the wood in a place that was _clearly_ not a trail. He had to squeeze between trunks and watch his steps for a few minutes. He was seriously irritated by the time they reached a more _practical_ spot. There were still deep heaps of snow here and there and the ground was treacherous. “Effie’s going nowhere.”

“That’s what you say _now_.” the girl retorted, walking so fast he had trouble keeping up. She knew the woods by heart, she automatically sidestepped slippery patches. It was like she was born there, he wasn’t that at ease in there. “But Jo’s right.”

“No sentence beginning with _Jo’s right_ can be good.” he taunted. “The _fuck_ she put inside your head, girl?”

Katniss stomped her feet for two minutes before she folded her arms over her chest, burrowing in her father’s old leather jacket. Haymitch figured she was regretting not having brought the bow. He was ready to bet if she had been armed any poor squirrel in a mile’s radius would have been hunted down.

“She’s going to go back to the Capitol.” she spilled out eventually.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Maybe not _right now_.” she hissed. “But Jo’s right. Now she’s back in touch with her family and they want her to come live with them and, one day, she’s going to wake up and she’s going to realize she’s too _fabulous_ for Twelve.”

“She doesn’t think she’s too fabulous for Twelve.” he countered, even though that was a lie. It was Effie Trinket they were talking about. _Of course_ , she was too fabulous for Twelve.

“Oh, _please_!” Katniss scoffed. “She had nowhere to go so she came here but don’t you get it? Now she _has_ somewhere else to go! And she will leave and you will go with her because she has your baby and you won’t want to leave him.”

“Katniss, we’re not going _anywhere_.” he argued but she wasn’t listening.

“And what about me and Peeta? What about _us_?” she went on, completely oblivious to what he was saying. She was walking at random, ducking between trees and avoiding the most obvious hunting tracks. “Jo’s right. We _won’t_ count. ‘Cause we’re not yours and…”

“Alright, _enough_.” he growled, grabbing her arm and tugging hard to make her stop moving. She faced him but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, she was stubbornly staring at his chest. “Where _the_ _fuck_ does that come from? We talked about this, yeah? I ain’t about to abandon my kid. _Any_ of my kids.”

“But Jo’s right and we’re _not_ _really_ your kids.” the girl whispered, sounding sullen, jealous and a thousand things in between. “If Effie leaves with him…”

“Effie isn’t about to pack up and leave either.” he sighed in irritation. “When has she _ever_ let you or the boy down, Katniss? We don’t leave our kids.”

“But we’re _not_ your kids.” she insisted, glancing up.

She was quick to blink back the tears but he saw them anyway. And he was honestly _stunned_ by them.

She wasn’t jealous or sullen, he realized. She was _terrified_.

So he did the only thing he could do, the instinctive thing, he used the grip he still had on her arm to pull her into his chest, hugging her fiercely, _protectively._

“You listen to me, sweetheart, and you listen hard.” he muttered in her good ear. “You’re _mine_. Blood’s got nothing to do with it, you’re just as much mine as that baby boy, get it?”

“But…” Katniss argued, trying to wriggle free.

“No.” he spat, holding fast to her. “No _buts_. You’re mine. End of the story. I ain’t dying and I ain’t taking off. I’m not your dad and I’m not your mom. I’m your _mentor_ , yeah? Mentors stick with their victors. It’s a _forever_ kind of bond.” He rolled his eyes. “And Effie feels the same way I do and, frankly, sweetheart, it’s insulting you’d think anything else.”

She was hugging him back now and Haymitch relaxed a little when he felt her giving up on the flight response.

“Jo said…” she riposted weakly after a few minutes.

“Jo always says a lot of _bullshit_.” he cut her off. “Maybe she was trying to work you up, maybe she’s got her own insecurities.” He cupped the back of her head protectively. “Effie and I aren’t going anywhere. This is home, alright? Her family’s a pain in the _ass_ but she’s got a right to want them in her life.”

“They abandoned her.” she grumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “She shouldn’t be giving them a second chance.”

He hesitated a moment and then decided it was all or nothing. “If your mom came back with an apology, you wouldn’t slam the door in her face.”

She broke the hug fast and started walking again. “It’s different.”

“Not really sure it is.” he argued, following after her. “They treated her wrong, nobody’s disputing _that_. Your mom treated you wrong too.”

“She did nothing _bad_.” Katniss hesitated.

“She did nothing _at all_.” he scoffed. “Doesn’t mean she’s not _still_ your mom. So, maybe, if she visited, you’d like spending some time with her… Doesn’t mean you’d go back to live with her or that you’d follow her to Four, yeah?”

“She’s not my real family.” she snarled. “Not like Peeta and you.”

“But she’s family all the same.” he pointed out.

“I guess.” she granted with a sulk.

“Well, maybe Effie feels the same way.” he shrugged. “They’re her family but not like _we_ are.”

“If they want her to leave…” she countered again.

“She’s not gonna leave.” he sighed. “She doesn’t want our kid brought up the same way she was.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t let Jo put ideas in your head. She’s lonely and miserable and she likes everyone to feel the same way she does. Come on… Let’s go home.”

It took a few more minutes to convince her to turn around.

By the time they came back to the Village, the party was over. Katniss would have headed straight for her house but he grabbed her arm and steered toward his, determined to burry that problem once and for all.

The house was warm and welcoming after the freezing woods. Something white and excited jumped around him before he even had time to take off his coat. He bent down to pat the puppy on the head, humoring him by pinning him down when it became clear the dog wanted to play.

“Haymitch?” Effie’s voice asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah.” he answered.

Katniss looked uncomfortable and she was sulking, eyeing Snowball with mistrust. Haymitch gently but firmly nudged her in the kitchen’s direction.

Effie was standing up, clearly waiting for the kettle to whistle, a hand applying pressure to the small of her back, the other clutching the edge of the counter.

“You’re alright?” he immediately worried.

“Yes, it is just my back acting up.” she dismissed, her blue eyes tracking Katniss’ every move with curiosity. Effie had always been good at body language and the way the girl was shuffling her feet and averting her gaze was probably screaming _troubles_ at her. “Is everything settled?”

“Sure.” he snorted, pushing Katniss in her direction. It warranted him a glare but he ignored it. “So, you know how the books say parents have to make sure other kids don’t get jealous during the pregnancy? Like how it should be made clear the baby’s not going to replace them or whatever?” Katniss glared harder but Haymitch simply smirked as understanding dawned on Effie’s face. “Sweetheart, tell _our_ stupid kid we ain’t gonna take off with the shrimp and leave her and Peeta to hang.”

“You’re an _ass_.” the girl scowled – not that it really mattered because Effie was already in her space.

For the second time that day, Katniss was forced into a hug.

“Oh, my dear… Don’t you know how I think about the two of you?” Effie whispered. “ _My_ victors…”

“She thinks maybe you’re gonna go back to the Capitol with our kid to your real family.” he mocked.

She met his eyes over Katniss’ shoulder – who was meekly trying to get out of that hug and failing because Effie could be _very_ strong when she wanted to. He shrugged in answer to the unspoken question.

“ _This_ is my real family, Katniss.” Effie declared in a soft voice.

“He’s making it bigger than what I said.” the girl protested.

“It does not matter.” she retorted. “I love you. Know that. You and Peeta. I would not love you more if I had carried you. We _are_ a family and the baby changes nothing.”

“I just don’t want you to leave.” Katniss finally admitted.  

“There is nowhere else I would rather be.” she replied, almost ferocious. “And nothing would make me leave you behind. I _promise_. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sure, I trust you.” The girl cleared her throat, embarrassed. She tried to break the hug again but there was no escaping their former escort’s embrace. “Effie, can you…”

The back door opened on Peeta who froze at the scene he had just interrupted and then frowned. “What’s going on?”

Haymitch couldn’t help but chuckle, more amused by the whole thing than he probably ought to be. He was in a very good mood. He walked around the table and pulled the boy in a parody of a hug that was entirely too tight and suffocating.

“Have you gone mad?” Peeta worried, trying to get him off him.

“Hush now, kid…” Haymitch taunted. “We’re having a family bonding moment.”

“Okay, you’ve all gone _mad_!” the boy insisted, finally managing to duck under his arm. He eyed them all warily. Effie had let go of Katniss but the girl was crimson and Haymitch figured she hadn’t shared her worries with her boyfriend for fear of being mocked.

“So, do we need to tell you that the new baby doesn’t mean we don’t care for you any less or _you_ ’re good?” he teased, unable to stop himself.

Peeta looked completely puzzled. “I’m… good. Thanks?”

“Haymitch, do _not_ be mean.” Effie rebuked, her voice immediately softened when she turned to Peeta. “Although it _is_ true we have been remiss. Peeta, neither Haymitch or I intends to leave and the baby won’t affect the love we have for the two of you.”

The boy stared at her, then studied Katniss, and in the end he turned to Haymitch.

“You were supposed to have a baby shower.” Peeta accused. “What else did I miss?”

“Effie’s having the baby at home, apparently there’s a pump to get milk out of her, both her mom and Jo are assholes and your girlfriend’s freaking out over us loving the baby more.” he answered. “All in a day’s work.”

“I _never_ said that!” Katniss protested.

“Haymitch, now, that is absolutely unnecessary!” Effie snapped at the very same time.

“I’m _always_ around. Why do interesting things always happen when I’m out?” Peeta complained.

Haymitch smirked, more proud than he could say.

_That_ was his family.

A bit broken, a tad crazy, but _his_.


	28. Thirty-Two Weeks

“Breathe.” Haymitch ordered her, prompting Effie to shoot him a glare. He rolled his eyes and lifted defensive hands. “Hey, you heard the lady, that’s what I’m supposed to say when stuff like that happens.”

It was her turn to want to roll her eyes and she fought against that bad habit very hard.

Haymitch hated the antenatal classes with a passion hardly rivaled by anything else but he was actually attentive during them, which didn’t always end up to Effie’s advantage. He found sitting on the floor, on yoga mats, stupid and irritating – she suspected it was mainly because he had to help her up afterwards and she was _heavy_ – and he wasn’t a fan of the theoretical aspect of labor that he would have been happy to remain ignorant about until he was forced to face it. The breathing exercises, on the other hand, he had taken to with boredom but diligence – and he liked to spring them up on her every time she looked a bit off the weather.

“We are in a hospital, I _dare_ say I am perfectly fine.” she sighed.

“Told you having the classes and the appointment in one day was too much.” he triumphed, far too smug for her liking.

“And as always I should have deferred to your superior experience with pregnancy.” she retorted. “You carried _so many_ children before. Oh… _Wait._ ”

His eyes twinkled. “Sassy.”

Perhaps going to the class and _then_ to their appointment with Doctor Larcher _had_ been a bit ambitious for one day. Even as she laid there, on the examination table, waiting for the doctor to show up, she felt ready to _burst_. And the added stress of being in the clinic wasn’t an added bonus.

“I cannot wait for this to be over.” she said. She immediately felt guilty about it because she certainly didn’t want her baby to come out _now_ , well before his due date.

“Only a little over a month to go.” Haymitch reminded her, trying to be comforting. It wasn’t.

“Easy for you to say.” she snapped. “You are not the one full to the brim with a human being.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away hastily. He glanced at the door, probably wishing Larcher would hurry up, and then brushed her hair out of her face. She batted his hand away. The wind had destroyed all her attempts at looking nice but she wasn’t going to let him make it worse.

“Mariana is right.” he grumbled. “You’re in a mood today.”

She hadn’t appreciated the comment when Mariana, the midwife, had muttered it and she didn’t appreciate it any more now. She wasn’t sure she liked the midwife at all, truth be told, and she dearly hoped Larcher would be free for the actual delivery.

She didn’t think Mariana wished her or the baby any ill – and Haymitch had _certainly_ made sure of that with a background check Effie wasn’t supposed to know about although he should have known by now that he couldn’t keep a secret from her – but she had flinched away from Effie when they had first met and she walked on eggshells around her. She was young, in her twenties, not old enough for the terror of Reapings to having dulled and she was from Twelve, which made it worse.

The classes were in groups and the other three pregnant women in theirs had been cordial enough if not friendly. She hadn’t heard a single bad word uttered against her and she didn’t perceive any of them as a threat – something Haymitch would have most likely picked on because he had been overprotective to the point of suffocating her since Clay. Still, she felt lonely but she had never tried to join the other three women when they laughed or joked, just like Haymitch had stayed far from the other fathers.

“I am eight months pregnant.” she growled. “When either of you are eight months pregnant, you will get to comment on my mood.”

“Well said.” Larcher teased as he strode in. “How are we today, Effie?”

“ _Bitchy_.” Haymitch answered for her.

If she hadn’t been lying on her back and if it hadn’t taken a lot of rolling left and right to get off that table, she might have tried to murder him. And given the smirk he flashed her, he probably knew it.

“I am tired.” she admitted. “And I feel dizzy more and more often.”

“That’s probably the baby pressing on your ribcage.” Larcher reassured her, studying her. “He doesn’t have much room.”

Once more, Effie fought not to roll her eyes. In her opinion, he had _plenty_ of room. It would take her a long time to get her figure back.

The doctor examined her while Haymitch stared at the ceiling half in courtesy and half in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t move as much as before.” Effie told him eventually and, immediately, Haymitch’s attention snapped back to her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he accused, his eyes darting between her and the doctor. “She had too much stress, yeah? The _fucking_ wedding, the press, her family… That hurt the baby? Is he…”

“Calm down, Haymitch, the baby is fine.” Larcher chuckled, patting his shoulder. “It is perfectly normal for the baby to be less active, it means he probably shifted to be ready to come down so you can’t feel him as much. It also accounts for the pressure on your bladder, the dizziness and the heartburns you haven’t mentioned but I’m sure are there.”

Effie flashed him a sheepish smile. “Those are not so bad. They didn’t seem worth mentioning.”

“As you pointed out, you’re eight months pregnant. _Everything_ is worth mentioning.” Larcher retorted without heat. “Now, are we ready for the last ultrasound?”

Effie nodded. It was odd to know it would be the last time she would see the baby on the screen, that the next time she would see him… She would be holding him in her arms.

She blindly reached for Haymitch’s hand and squeezed.

The familiar wooshing sound was the best part, in her opinion. Her baby’s heartbeat… She would never get tired of that.

“Here he is.” Larcher said, pointing to the mass on the screen, retracing the shape with his finger. “See? That’s his head, right here.” He was indeed, facing down, already ready for labor. “And…” Larcher frowned, leaning closer to the screen.

“What?” Haymitch immediately worried.

“Is there a problem?” Effie asked at the very same time.

They clung to each other’s hands. It couldn’t be _that_ bad, she rationalized, the heartbeat was strong and their baby looked just like a baby ought to. It couldn’t be…

“A problem, _no_.” the doctor mumbled, still frowning, before dismissing it with his free hand. “I apologize, it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Haymitch growled. “What about the cord? ‘Cause I’ve read they can go around the baby’s neck and…”

“It is a possibility I strongly encourage you _not_ to worry about.” Larcher countered. “Everything looks good.” He typed on the keyboard. “He…”

“Aidan.” Effie cut him off. “His name is Aidan.”

Larcher smiled indulgently and started again: “Aidan is perfectly healthy and there is no reason to expect any difficulty during the delivery. He’s a little under four pounds now, which is perfectly in the range for thirty-two weeks.”

The idea that she would have to somehow get a baby who would weight _more_ than four pounds out of her was terrifying.

“Are you still set on the home delivery?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.” she answered firmly.

There wasn’t much more to say or do. Larcher urged her to rest a little more and, soon, they were back in the town’s busy streets – well, busy for Twelve.

They walked slowly, mostly because it felt to her as if the Village was _way_ too far for her to get back on foot.

“You’re sure you want to give birth at home?” Haymitch hesitated as they were rounding the Clarke’s coffee shop’s corner. “‘Cause… What they said at the shower… I know it scared you _shitless_.”

“Language.” she reminded him, placing a protective hand on her stomach, over the coat that wouldn’t close properly. The weather wasn’t that bad for March though, almost as if spring was eager to arrive. “And… It _may_ have spooked me a little.”

She had been glad when Elindra and Lyssa had gone home with a promise to come back sometimes after she had had the baby – something Haymitch had just _loved_. She had also been somehow relieved when Annie and Johanna had left for Four. She hadn’t dared talk about it with Eileen yet though. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. How would it help to know just how much it would hurt?

“I know you don’t want a hospital…” he hesitated.

“I will be fine.” she replied, forcing herself to sound strong. “ _We_ will be fine.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Won’t we?”

He winced. “I ain’t the one who’s gonna have to do this, sweetheart… If I could spare you the pain, I would, but…”

And he _would_ , she believed that.

“It cannot be worse than a whip or…” She let her voice trail off and took a deep breath. Her sudden dizziness had nothing to do with the baby, it wasn’t him who was pressing on her ribcage. It was the memories. “Perhaps I will be in excruciating pain but it will be for something good and it will mean something. It won’t be pointless and it won’t be… I survived _torture,_ I can survive giving birth. We will have a baby boy at the end of it.”

“Yeah.” he smiled, placing his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his side.

She humored him for a few minutes but they couldn’t really walk like that anymore, it wasn’t practical at all, she was dawdling too much.

She was dismayed to realize they were still far from the slope that would take them to the Village.

“Do you think Katniss will be alright?” she asked, her mind jumping tracks in an effort to distract herself from the long way to go. “Were we clear enough?”

He shrugged. “That was mostly Jo being an ass. I shouted at her about it.”

“You shouldn’t shout at Johanna.” Effie chided him. “She went through a lot too. Did it occur to you the ideas she put in Katniss’ head had something to do with how _she_ feels about the situation?”

“Jo’s a big girl.” he scoffed. “She’s practically got a kid of her own.”

Effie sighed. “You can be so obtuse sometimes.”

He shot her an irritated glance. “So what? You know Johanna better than I do now?”

“Well, we _did_ share a cell, you know.” she retorted, a bit flippantly. “It tends to give new perspectives on people.” She shook her head, choosing her words carefully. “She… looks up to you a lot. You were always watching after her and Finnick but when Katniss and Peeta came along…”

“What? You’re saying she’s jealous?” he snorted. “Come on.”

“I am saying the situation is more complicated than what you make it out to be.” she argued firmly. “I do not think she was simply trying to get a rise out of you or Katniss.”

She sighed in relief when she spotted the slope leading up to the Village. 

“Don’t know.” he admitted. “Maybe. But she’s doing fine on her own, she doesn’t need me hovering over her shoulder.”

“Perhaps try to tell her that next time.” she advised.

He rolled his eyes and placed a hand at the small of her back to subtly – or, at least, he thought it was subtle – help her up the path.

“I hope this one’s gonna be easier, sweetheart.” he declared.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head to studied him.

“Half you and half me.” she reminded him. “How much easier do you think it will be exactly?”

He made a face. “Point taken.”

They were silent for the rest of the way, mainly because Effie needed to save her breath. She could have wept in joy when she heard the familiar honking and barking at the corner of their street. _Home_ at last.

Snowball jumped around her in welcome as soon as they made it to the backyard and Haymitch was forced to gently shoo him away in fear of her overbalancing.

“Don’t forget the mail.” she said, distracted by the puppy. If she didn’t remind him of those practicalities, the mailbox would burst with unopened letters and bills.

She let herself in and made a beeline for the living-room, dropping on the couch with utter exhaustion. Never again would she cumulate a class and an appointment. Haymitch had been right. Not that she was about to admit that much, he would become insufferable.

The front door was slammed shut and she clenched her jaw in annoyance. He needed to lose this bad habit and _fast_. Soon there would be a baby in the house and she wouldn’t appreciate it at all if he woke him up with his carelessness.

“You’d think they’d get tired at some point.” he grumbled, tossing a few letters on the coffee table and handing her a now crumpled newspaper. “It keeps coming and coming.”

When she realized what had him so irritated, she sighed. The press had been having a field day with them since the wedding. The interest about her pregnancy had died after the first few months but it had risen again with Clay’s attack – something she was definitely trying to forget about – and after the short-notice wedding…

It seemed nothing worthy of mention was happening in Panem because they were making the headlines one day out of two. They had tried to appeal to Plutarch’s good side but the former Gamemaker claimed his hands were tied. He had held the wolves back as long as he had been able, it was out of his control now – but the money went directly in his pockets, she couldn’t help but think.

“What are they saying today?” she asked, a tad bitterly.

Given that strict instructions had been given to their friends and relatives to _not_ disclose _anything_ about them or the baby – something her family was respecting to the letter because she had made it clear she would not tolerate her child being exploited for five minutes of fame – medias were forced to invent quite a number of things to keep the public interested.

“Wondering if it’s a boy or a girl and calling a girl.” he snorted, sitting down next to her.

He left her to peruse the article while he kept busy trying to tug a stuffed toy out of Snowball’s mouth. The puppy growled and wouldn’t let go but his tail was wagging in amusement. Effie’s attention wasn’t on the dog but when she caught sight of what exactly they were playing with, she frowned and then gasped.

“Snowball!” she snapped. “Bad puppy! Very bad puppy!”

Haymitch’s eyebrows shot up and he placed a protective hand on the dog’s head when Snowball suddenly huddled against his legs, doing his best innocent puppy eyes.

“He’s just fake growling, sweetheart.” he grumbled. “He’s _playing_. He ain’t gonna attack or anything…”

She pursed her lips and glared at the dog. “That bear isn’t yours, is it?”

The poor blue stuffed bear was damp with drool.

“What do you mean it’s not his?” Haymitch asked, confused. “Thought you had bought it for him… You’re always buying him toys.”

“This was in Aidan’s crib.” she hissed. “And it is not the first time _someone_ tries to steal our son’s toys.” Snowball let out a whine and lied down in what was probably supposed to be a show of contrition. She didn’t let herself be moved – not _too much_ anyway. “I am very angry with you. Bad puppy. _Very_ bad puppy.”

Haymitch chuckled. “Maybe we should have the talk about the new sibling with him too… Hell, sweetheart… Maybe we should gather everyone we know and give them the talk. It would save time.”

“This is _not_ funny.” she retorted. “This is a behavior problem that needs to be corrected now. He has his own toys and he is spoiled enough as it is. What if he steals our son’s favorite stuffed toy one day? What will we do then?”

“Put it in the washing machine?” he suggested, his grey eyes twinkling in mischief.

“Nothing that has been touched with puppy’s drool is ever going anywhere near my son.” she declared.

“Then we better burn down the whole house.” he shrugged, smirking with obvious fondness as if she was being adorably funny.

“You think I am overreacting.” she pouted.

“You, overreacting?” he repeated, faking astonishment. “ _Never_.”

She might have started ranting if Snowball hadn’t warily carried the bear over and dropped it on her knees – still damp with drool. She made a face that made Haymitch laugh.

He laughed so rarely that it almost made the ordeal worth it.

Almost.

She placed the bear behind her, out of the dog’s reach, and patted his head. Snowball gave the toy a last yearning look – and she was certain he would find a way to steal it again because he had had his eyes on that bear ever since she had come home with it – and trudged to his own bed where he started munching on his purple monkey.

“You are doing the laundry.” she decided and then thought better of it. “Never mind. Last time I had you doing that it was a disaster.”

“You know I had lived alone for close to thirty years when you showed up, right?” he mocked.

“I do not think we should use the state your house was in during those years as standards.” she replied. “And dropping everything in the machine, adding a hazardous amount of detergent and typing on buttons at random isn’t how you do laundry.”

Her cashmere sweater had never recovered.

“If you say so.” he humored her.

“I do, actually.” she huffed, looking back down at the newspaper. “At least we know nobody is talking to them.”

The article claimed the chances of them having a girl were high because so called experts had examined the shape of her stomach on her wedding pictures. It seemed she had also been seen perusing dresses in a shop.

“They’re a pain.” he spat. “ _The fuck_ they want with us?”

“The same thing they always did.” she commented. “Use us to make money.” Her fingers brushed over the black prints. ‘ _A little girl for the Abernathy family?’_ She snorted. “Let them exhaust themselves figuring out which girl name we picked. It will keep them busy and off our back.”

“Shouldn’t have tried to talk to them.” he accused. “I know you meant well but… It just fueled the fire.”

“Perhaps if _you_ hadn’t threatened them.” she retorted, rubbing her stomach. She leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. “What’s done is done.”

He wrapped his arm around her and let her use him as a pillow for what, she was sure, would be a long nap.

“I don’t want our kid to grow up in the spotlight, that’s all.” he sighed. “We can’t change who we are but…”

His voice trailed off but she knew what he meant. Their child shouldn’t have to carry that weight. “Yes. I wish…”

It was her turn to leave her sentence incomplete.

“Yeah.” he breathed out against her hair, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “ _Fuck_ , if I know.”


	29. Thirty-Five Weeks

Doing groceries had never been Haymitch’s favorite hobby. Doing groceries while following to the letter a list Effie had written was, maybe, even _worse_.

She was very irritable lately. The mood swings were back full force, she alternated between periods of complete impatience at the baby’s arrival and periods of utter dread. She refused to talk about it with him but he knew she was having doubts about being able to pull it off again. She was having nightmares, he was certain she would have stayed in bed if she had been able to find a comfortable position, and, more than once, he had found her leaning against the nursery’s doorframe, staring at the crib, hugging herself. Other times, she just whirled around the house, fixing stuff that wasn’t ready yet for the shrimp.

One month to go.

Haymitch clung to that idea with every fiber of his being. He was counting down the days, mainly because Effie wasn’t at her best and he hated seeing her like that. He understood most of her anxiety came from the fact she was mostly trapped in the house, unable to settle because her stomach was in the way or the baby was kicking or she wasn’t feeling well… It wasn’t conductive to relaxing and she couldn’t really take her mind off it.

And she seemed intent on making him pay for it.

To be fair, he _did_ have a hand in getting her knocked up so…

He wasn’t going to infuriate her further by picking up the wrong brand, which was why he had been staring at toothpastes for more than five minutes, trying to recall which one she usually bought. And his memory was blank. He settled for strawberry flavored in the end, figuring that, with Effie, you couldn’t go wrong with strawberry.

He exited the shop with relief because the next part would be much easier. Snowball jumped up from where he had been lurking next to the door and stuck close to his leg not to get lost. Market day was always busy and he didn’t like crowds but the faces were more or less all familiar and it helped a little. He picked up fresh vegetables, fruits and everything else they needed in a hurry. He didn’t like leaving her for long period of time, all the more so when the puppy – who really wasn’t a puppy anymore – was with him.

Not that he was expecting another _Clay_ any time soon. While what happened that night wasn’t public knowledge, rumors were flying left and right. His death was the only straight fact they had, the rest was all conjectures but… The man _was_ dead. It didn’t matter what had happened, the uncertainty only reinforced the idea that attacking them wouldn’t end well for the attacker. Either Haymitch had killed Clay – which was the most popular theory – or a pregnant Effie Trinket had – and they had all been underestimating the escort. In any case… A message had been sent.

He just wished the blood had been on his hands instead of Effie’s.

He wasn’t wary about a possible attack as he strode through town in the direction of the Village, Snowball dashing a few feet away of him. He was wary of anything happening while he wasn’t there to check on her. The closer they got to the end, the harder it became to quench his protective instincts.

He knew he was smothering her sometimes but he couldn’t help it. He _needed_ to make sure she was alright. 

He struggled with the door, his arms full of grocery bags, not helped by the way Snowball clawed at the wood to be let in faster. Samoyeds were supposed to _enjoy_ being outside but Effie had pampered him so much that, while he enjoyed going out and playing in the backyard, Snowball was happiest when he was curled up somewhere next to one of them – preferably on the bed or the couch. Lately, he had taken to use cuddle time to curiously sniff her stomach. It was as if he knew there was someone else in there. Effie thought it was the cutest thing. Haymitch refused to admit it _was_ pretty cute.

The noise assaulted him as soon as he managed to push the door open. When he had left, she had been furiously knitting on the couch, sulking about something or other… And now there was a baby wailing inside the house.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

Literally.

And then, as if to compensate this small mishap, it started _racing_ to the point Haymitch felt dizzy. He dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table, running after Snowball who, as usual, was rushing straight to wherever Effie was.

His only thought was that labor had somehow started while he was gone and that she had been forced to deliver alone.

He was fully expecting blood and gore in their brand new living-room.

Finding her pacing, tears silently running down her cheeks, with a baby in a pink dress struggling in her arms was almost anticlimactic. And, _still_ , his eyes roamed around looking for blood or clues about a possible emergency birth despite the fact that Effie was still clothed and standing, still heavily pregnant, and that the baby was clearly a couple of months old.

A baby he also knew to be Fanny for having seen her often enough in the Clarke’s arms.

“The _fuck_?” he breathed out anyway.

“Oh, Haymitch!” she exclaimed with utter relief – and since she didn’t call him out on his language in the presence of a baby, he figured it must be _bad_. “Please, help me…”

He blinked once, twice, and then crept closer to her. She stopped pacing and tried to rock the child but she wouldn’t stop wailing at the top of her lungs. She was screaming so hard her face was all red and Haymitch was scared she would suffocate.

“Where’s Eileen?” he frowned.

“I told her I would babysit so she could have some time with Livy…” Effie explained, biting down on her bottom lip. “Liam is at the coffee shop and between work and the baby… I knew she wanted some time with her oldest daughter and I thought it would be good practice so I offered but…” Effie’s face crumpled and, before he understood what was happening, he had two wailing girls on his hands. “She won’t stop crying! She hates me! I cannot do this, Haymitch, I _cannot_!”

“Okay, okay…” he pacified, automatically reaching out for the baby because Effie didn’t seem too steady on her legs. He froze before he could take her though. He had no idea how to carry an infant and his hands were shaking anyway. He switched tracks fast, grabbing Effie’s shoulders instead and nudging her toward the couch. “Sit down, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out.”

“What is there to figure out?” she sobbed. “Babies hate me. What were we _thinking_? We _can’t_ have a baby! We know _nothing_ about babies!”

“We read enough…” he grumbled, looking around for an idea… His eyes fell on Snowball who was sitting in a corner, strangely quiet. The puppy looked at him, bolted for his bed, snatched the purple monkey and ran out of the room. “Traitor.” Haymitch muttered under his breath.

“I did everything I was supposed to.” Effie countered, still crying. She never used to cry before this pregnancy and now… He figured it must have been hormones or exhaustion. Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks and her nose… “I changed her, I fed her… I rocked her… I even tried singing but… _Nothing_ is _working_!”

He spotted the diaper bag open on an armchair and snatched the first thing that looked like a toy. It was round and it made noises, that was enough for him. He waved it above Fanny’s head, hoping it would help… Effie held her breath, trying to collect herself…

For a glorious second, there was silence. Fanny let out a strangled chirp and waved her tiny chubby hand as if to catch the toy… The next moment, she was crying again.

“No, no, no…” Haymitch panicked. “Here, take it…” He placed the toy closer to her fingers, he waved it, made it jingle to catch her attention… To no avail… “You’re sure she’s not hungry?”

Effie shook her head, her lips wobbling. “She never cries with Eileen. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He poked at the baby’s tummy. “Maybe she’s broken…”

“Babies don’t get broken.” she snapped and then hesitated. “Did I break the baby?”

“Of course you didn’t break the baby.” he immediately denied, sensing venturing on that ground wouldn’t end well.

“Take her, please…” she requested, leaning a bit closer so he could relieve her of the girl. He immediately shook his head, taking a – admittedly peeved – step back. She pursed her lips. “Haymitch, I _need_ you to take her. Aidan is pressing on my bladder and I badly need to…”

“Tell the shrimp to stop.” he cut her off. “’Cause there’s no way I’m picking up that kid.”

“She won’t bite.” she taunted. “She doesn’t have teeth.”

But, _boy_ , did she have lungs…

He was tempted to go back to town to buy earplugs.

“What did you go and offer to babysit for?!” he accused, raising his voice to be heard over the wailing.

“Because I thought it would be nice!” she retorted on the same tone. “Now, stop being an idiot and take this baby off my hands.”

“What are you? _Nuts_? I can’t carry a baby.” he sputtered, raising his hands defensively.

The tremor wasn’t _that_ bad now that he had recovered from the panic of thinking she had given birth by herself – and wouldn’t that have been a nice story to tell their son later on: _Hey, shrimp, guess what, Papa missed your birth ‘cause he was wondering if Mama would kill him over strawberry toothpaste…_

“And what do you plan to do with ours?” she hissed.

“Hand you stuff while you carry him?” he replied, only now realizing that plan was stupid. Plus, he _wanted_ to hold their baby but maybe… Maybe while he was sitting or when he was sure he couldn’t let him fall…

“Haymitch.” she growled – and he knew that growl, that growl meant trouble.

“I don’t want to break her!” he protested.

“No chance of that, it seems I already did.” she deadpanned. “Help me now or I _swear_ …”

She left the threat to hang in the air. He almost told her to go fuck herself. That was what he would have done months earlier but it was different now. And it would remain different as long as she was pregnant with their child. It wasn’t just about him not liking to be bossed around, it was also about her well-being – because she wasn’t supposed to be stressed _dammit_.

“For the record, sweetheart, you’re being _bitchy_ again.” he mumbled.

However, he did come closer, sitting down next to her before he could change his mind. She tried to hand Fanny to him but he had no clue how to even start holding her. Effie seemed to realize what the problem was and placed his arms the right way. Before long, he had a screaming wriggling baby locked in his arms.

It was _way_ heavier than he had thought it would be.

“At last.” Effie sighed in relief, hauling herself up and waddling out of the room.

“Don’t be long.” he shouted after her, not even ashamed of how terrified he sounded.

It was all well and good to get used to a pregnancy or to the idea of a kid, it was completely something else to find themselves face to face with the reality of what having a baby would be.

Once he was sure his muscles wouldn’t suddenly give in to spasms just to make his day worse, he mustered enough confidence to try rocking the little girl. He awkwardly hummed the only lullaby he knew, the one that always calmed the shrimp when he was acting up in Effie’s stomach… No luck.

Effie was taking her sweet time coming back and Fanny was heavy. He experimentally shifted her weight to his left arm, propping her on his lap so his right hand was free. He didn’t know why he started rubbing her tummy, it was a bit instinctive.

She stopped crying.

“Look at that…” he smiled, his shoulders slouching in relief. “You’ve just got a stomach ache, yeah?”

“Did you kill…” Effie’s question died on her lips when she caught sight of them. She planted her hands on her hips and watched, not quite as pleased as he thought she should have been – he had found a way to stop the infernal wailing after all. “It figures she would like you best. Well, this settles that. Babies hate me.”

“Babies don’t hate you. Girls just like me better.” he smirked. “Can’t help it, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nobody likes a bragger.”

“You did.” he taunted, the familiar banter finishing to put him at ease.

At least, until the baby started wailing again.

“What did you do?” Effie exclaimed in dismay.

“Nothing!” he swore, rubbing Fanny’s stomach again.

Nothing worked.

They shared a look of horror.

They tried rocking her, they tried walking, they tried feeding her and changing her, they tried playing with her, they tried lullabies and more up-beat songs…

Fanny cried until Effie had trouble not crying herself again and until Haymitch developed a headache the size of District Seven.

He had never been as relieved as when Eileen invaded their house without knocking, probably having heard the baby from the Village’s gates – or she _did_ knock and they didn’t notice over the wailing.

It was like magic.

The moment Fanny was in her mother’s arms, she went quiet.

Haymitch might have been a bit rude with how fast he walked the woman back to the door but Effie was so exhausted, she didn’t even lecture him about it.    

He dropped down on the couch next to her and let his head fall on the back of the seat, staring at the ceiling. Effie was very quiet.

“It won’t be the same, sweetheart.” he promised.

He wasn’t quite convinced though and she must have picked up on it because she swallowed hard, rubbing the baby bump in that nervous habit she had developed those past few months.

“What if it _is_?” she whispered. “What if we cannot do it?”

“Effie…” he sighed.

“No.” she cut him off firmly. “You said we could do it and I wanted to believe you but what if we _can’t_? What if…”

“One day at a time.” he reminded her. “We take it one day at a time.”

“We cannot take it one day at a time when a child is involved.” she hissed, hauling herself off the couch. She was growing frantic, retracing the length from the fireplace to the bookshelves again and again. “What were we _thinking_? We were selfish. So selfish. We aren’t equipped to deal with a baby. We…”

“Effie.” he insisted, propping his elbows on his thighs. He wanted her to calm down before she worked herself up in a panic attack but he knew that if he tried to force her to sit down right now it would be worse. He tracked her every move with his eyes, ready to bolt and catch her at the slightest hint of fainting.

“Tell me he wouldn’t be better with a mother who knows what she is doing.” she accused. “Tell me there aren’t better people out there who could raise him so much better than…”

“You want to give him up?” he sneered, more mocking than concerned. She had spent three hours embroidering Aidan’s name on a baby blanket she had knitted herself the previous day – for the birth, she had said. No one would spend that much time on such a project only to abandon the child.

“Of course not!” she snarled, wrapping her arms around her stomach in a protective stance, shooting him such a glare… He didn’t even bother pointing out how little sense she was making, he simply lifted a hand to silently illustrate his point. Her face softened a little but she didn’t stop pacing. “I am scared.”

The admission was quiet, almost too low for him to hear.

“Look…” he offered, reaching out to grab her wrist the next time she walked past him. She stopped moving but she wasn’t meeting his eyes and she still had her other arm wrapped around her stomach. “We’re gonna _fuck_ up. Everyone does, yeah? It’s normal…”

“Language.” she chided faintly.

“That kid, it’s not ours.” he insisted, nodding at the living-room door where Fanny had disappeared in her mother’s arms a few minutes earlier. “We’re supposed to get some kind of instinct along with the baby, yeah? We don’t have the baby yet so…”

“No superpower will magically appear, Haymitch.” she scowled.

“Sure it will.” he shrugged. “Parental instinct or something.” She scoffed dismissively and he squeezed her wrist. “That tingling feeling you get every time Katniss is about to do something crazy and dangerous?”

“When _isn’t_ she?” she challenged. “It is hardly any proof that…”

“How do you _always_ know when the boy isn’t doing well, then?” he insisted. “How do you _always_ know he needs to talk or whatever?”

“Because I know _him_.” she dismissed.

“And you’ll know the shrimp.” he argued.

“It is not the same thing at all.” she countered, turning to face him, forcing him to look up. He tugged her closer, propping his chin on her stomach. Her lips twitched and she ran her hand in his hair, brushing it back. “Do not look so cute, this is cheating.” He only smirked in answer, pressing a quick kiss to her stomach. She sighed but relented. “Katniss and Peeta have never been dependent on us like Aidan will be. We will be his _everything_. What if we _fail_?”

“We’ll try not to fail where it matters.” he promised.

“That’s not enough.” she breathed out, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s gonna have to be.” he answered. “’Cause that’s all anyone can do, sweetheart.”

She swallowed hard but made an obvious effort to collect herself. “We will love him.”

“Yeah.” he smiled, covering the hand on his shoulder with his.

“More than anything.” she insisted.

“More than anything.” he nodded. “And we’ll keep him safe.”

“Yes.” she approved. “We will keep him _safe_.”

They remained like that for a little while, not quite embracing but close to each other anyway.

“You feel better?” he asked eventually. He wanted her to sit down, she had been on her feet for too long, but he didn’t want to upset her further either.

“Not really.” she confessed. “But we will be fine. We always are.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a lie meant to comfort herself or an actual belief of hers.

He wasn’t sure they were _always_ fine.

They survived, rather.

That was who they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo how confident are we that hayffie will manage with a baby? haha! Did you think like Haymitch that Effie had given birth while he was out? How terrible would that have been... Do you think Effie feels ok now ? Let me know your thoughts!


	30. Thirty-Seven Weeks

The baby was crying.

Effie hurried down the corridor, unable to quench the panic that was gnawing at her guts.

_Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong._

Her hand brushed against the familiar wallpaper but the feeling wasn’t right. Instead of the smooth wall she had forced Haymitch to restore half a year earlier, the surface was uneven. It was all cutting edges under her palms. Familiar too, but not in a good way.

As soon as she noticed the discrepancy, the flowery smell of the cleaning products she insisted on using all over the house disappeared, replaced by a smell that immediately made her want to retch. _Rot_. _Filth._ Her own body decaying, her mind trapped in that corpse that was refusing to die just as surely as she was trapped in that coffin of a cell.

She was in Twelve, she told herself, that was _over_. Haymitch had come. Haymitch had saved her. Haymitch…

The screaming of the baby derailed that train of thoughts. It called to something deep inside her, something she was reluctant to call motherly instinct. She knew it was her son calling for her, she knew her son was in pain, she knew…

She reached the nursery and didn't even blink when she found it empty of the furniture they had lovingly picked.

The cell was small. She knew every inch of the six grey surfaces that composed it. She knew that if she stood in the middle, she would have been able to touch the opposite walls without having to outstretch her arms. She knew that the ceiling was too low and that she would be forced to bend in two. She knew that the only way to move in that cell was to _crawl_ like a dog would. Because that was who she was now. An animal. A pet. _Abernathy’s bitch._ The one the guards kept because it was fun to watch her cling to life.

There were scratch marks on the wall from when she had tried to keep count of the days, back in the beginning when they still fed her once a day and when the pain from her torn fingernails had abated enough that she had given in to the need for distraction. The ground was dirty, always dirty with her blood and things decency made her revolt against, yet there was a smoother patch near the corner opposite to the one she usually curled up in. She liked to touch it sometimes. She liked to touch it and imagine she was elsewhere. Somewhere nice and warm. She forgot sometimes - _often -_ what nice and warm felt like. She forgot what the sunlight looked like. There was no light in there. It was pitch black all the time. Even when they slipped food through the trap at the bottom of the door, the light was barely a blink. There and gone in a moment, too brief for her tired brain to comprehend.

The cell was hell.

And yet she didn’t hesitate to rush inside, bowing her head as she did, desperate to find the son that was calling for her.

There were bloodied rags in her favorite corner that didn’t belong to her. Her blood ran cold. She dropped to her knees and crawled closer because it was the quickest way to do it. It was only when she got close that she realized the wailing had stopped.

It was silent.

She had always hated silence.

Her parents’ house had always been silent. A heavy kind of silence only disrupted by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall and the occasional coming and going of the staff. Disappointed stares, poised attitudes, boring afternoons that stretched endlessly…

Silence had a different quality in her prison. There was no ticking of a clock, no coming and going, no aloof presence that, at least, alleviated the loneliness. There, the loneliness was rather the point. The silence was absolute. A blanket of _nothing_ that wrapped around her until she couldn’t tell if she even existed anymore. Nobody to talk to. Nobody to tell her if she was dead or alive. She could not stop the thoughts circling in her head. Around and around, the thoughts came. _Flitting_. _Maddening_. _Elusive_.

She hated silence.

She _hated_   silence.

She warily reached for the bundle, a sob stuck in the middle of her throat. Someone was screaming in the distance but the silence was still absolute. She couldn’t understand the paradox. She didn’t even try.  

She knew what she would find in the rags but she looked anyway.

Aidan was so _perfect_.

Tiny nose and puckered pink lips. A heap of dirty blond hair and if they had been open, she knew he would have had his father’s eyes.

She cradled him against her chest and rocked on herself, back and forth, _back and forth_ … There was no point though. The blood was everywhere, so much for such a tiny thing… She wanted to scream, to beat the walls until her knuckles broke, to claw at her stomach… She didn’t even manage a whine.

He wasn’t breathing.

He wasn’t breathing because…

“You killed him.”

She looked up to the rusty metallic door. There was a figure there, but it had its back to the light and Effie was blinded. It was too dark in the cell. Too dark.

The figure moved a little to the right and Effie brutally recoiled, automatically curling up in her corner, wrapping herself around her dead child as if she could still protect him.

It was _her_.

Who she used to be, at least.

Effie Trinket, escort, complete with pink wig, heavy make-up, and an elegant golden dress. Nowadays, she understood why Haymitch used to call her a clown. She hated clowns. And this one was scary.

Her doppelganger had no weapon but she had never needed any to be dangerous. Her mouth was quirked up in an arrogant, cruel smile, and her blue eyes were cold under the fake feather eyelashes.

“You killed him.” her double repeated, completely detached.

“No.” she protested, cradling the baby closer to her chest. “It was you.”

She didn’t know where the accusation was coming from but it made perfect sense to her. It was the escort who had reaped the children. It was the escort who had the blood on her hand. It was…

“Oh, no…” the escort laughed – that fake bubbly laugh she used to be so good at mustering on command. “I pull pieces of papers from a bowl. I am otherwise quite harmless.”

“Liar.” she hissed.

Effie had _never_ been _harmless_. 

She had always been a master manipulator. She knew how to read people, what they wanted, what they denied even to themselves… She knew how to pull the strings, how to play everyone like puppets… She had always been very good at being what everyone wanted her to be, at getting what s _he_ wanted.

And when she had wanted something, it had hardly mattered who she hurt in the process.

She had never apologized for being ambitious and she had never been reluctant to give herself the means of her ambitions.

The escort batted her fake eyelashes in a somehow disturbing flirty way, the smile on her lips becoming more teasing. “But, _dear_ … I am just the escort… _You_ are the victor… And we _both_ know how unpredictable victors can be…”

“I am not a victor.” She shook her head, rocking harder. Her head hit the wall every two seconds but it was good. Pain was good. Pain was a reminder. Even if it was fleeting.

“Aren’t you?” her double chuckled. “My mistake. It must have been the many times you compared this place to an arena. Or perhaps it is the man you killed.”

“He was going to hurt the baby.” she growled. “I had to…”

“Kill him.” the escort finished for her. “See, I find it funny how you are always so quick to call _me_ a murderer, when _you_ are the one going around stabbing people. Why did you kill our son for?”

“I didn’t kill our son.” she snapped.

“Look down.” the doppelganger ordered.

“No.” she refused, her voice breaking. She could feel it in her right hand. She could _feel_ it.

“ _Look. Down_.” the escort demanded.

She didn’t mean to look but she did anyway and there it was. The knife in her right hand. The dead baby in the crook of her left arm.

“No!” she screamed. “No! No! _No_!”

“Victors are _never_ right in the head.” her double mocked.

And suddenly, she wasn’t the pathetic prisoner huddling in the corner anymore. She was the escort. As flamboyant and confident as she used to be. Naïve, too. _Weak_ , maybe. But powerful too in a way.

The woman in the corner, the scarred survivor she had become, screamed and screamed, carefully placing the baby aside before pouncing on her in a rage that couldn’t be controlled, trying to stab her, to…

“ _WAKE UP!”_

It felt like breaking the surface of a very deep lake. She gasped a deep breath as if she had been underwater for too long, grasping his shoulders by reflex.

“That’s it.” Haymitch’s voice encouraged her. “You breathe, sweetheart, just breathe. I’m right here. Focus on my voice. It’s alright. It’s alright, sweetheart.”

She had to blink several times before the black dots stopped dancing in front of her eyes. But when the room’s outlines finally became clearer, it made no sense. The soft glow of the nursery lamp tossed shadows shaped like dolphins on the wall.

“Why… Why am I here?” she stuttered through her tears.

She touched her face, disturbed by the tears she didn’t remember crying.

“Not sure when you left the bed.” he admitted. “I woke up when you started screaming.”

She realized she was sitting in the rocking-chair and he was kneeling in front of her, one of his hands was cupping her cheek, the other one was on her stomach. On her very pregnant stomach. She hadn’t given birth yet.

“She killed the baby.” she whispered when the dream came back to her. Panic rose with the memories. She could feel the prickling on her fingers, the strangely distorted hissing in her ears that meant a panic attack was looming. “She killed the baby. She…”

“Nobody killed the baby.” he cut her off slowly. “It was just a nightmare. A very, _very_ bad one.”

“But he was dead.” she argued, even if it made no sense. “She… She was me. She…” She shook her head. “I killed the baby. I… I killed our baby. I…”

“Effie.” he snapped. Her eyes shot up to meet his troubled ones and she fell silent. “Listen to me, you didn’t hurt the shrimp. The shrimp is fine.”

“What if I hurt him when he’s born?” she breathed out, her eyes wide, digging her fingers in the flesh of his shoulders, to make her point or to ground herself she wasn’t sure. “What if she’s right? What if I’m a victor now? What if…”

“I’m more likely to harm the kid than you are.” he scoffed dismissively.

“Don’t say that!” she growled. She felt an urge to _hurt_ him for that comment that was difficult to swallow down. She could still feel the knife in her hand, its weight, how it had felt when she had stabbed it into Clay’s neck. The noise. The smell. It made her feel sick. “Don’t say that…” she repeated more softly. “I can’t let you. I _won’t_ let you.”

“I _bloody_ hope so.” he snorted fondly. “It settles that though, yeah? You won’t let anyone harm the baby, so _you_ won’t harm the baby.”

“Haven’t you heard? Victors are deranged.” she chuckled and it was hysterical. It occurred to her she was still crying. She was going mad. She was going _mad_.

“You’re not a victor, sweetheart.” he sighed. “You’re a _survivor_. It’s different.”

“I was torn to pieces for some people’s sick enjoyment. How is that different?” she snarled. “I killed someone to survive. How is that different? I can’t _cope_ with what happened to me. How is that _fucking_ different?”

Haymitch studied her for a few seconds. He looked sad.

“You really need to start watching your language, princess.” he joked but it fell flat. He brushed her hair back. His hand lingered on her cheek in a tender caress and then joined the other on her stomach. “You’re back with me?”

She took a minute to answer that because she wasn’t sure. The shadows in the nursery’s corners made it too easy to remember her cell. She needed light. Bright blinding lights. And the smell… She could still smell the rot and decay. She knew it wasn’t real but she felt gross all the same. As if she was still covered with her own filth.

“Mostly.” she confessed. “Too many triggers…”

She let her voice trail off. He would know what she meant and, hopefully, he would be able to help.

“ _Mostly_ is good enough for me right now.” he declared. “I need you to tell me how you feel ‘cause I think you’ve been having contractions.”

“What?” she frowned. She realized the hands he had placed on her stomach weren’t there to protect or reassure. He was _monitoring_.

“They’re spaced out give or take four minutes.” he told her.

“It’s too early.” she immediately protested. There were still at least two weeks to go.

“You water didn’t break as far as I can tell…” he hesitated. “It might be the same thing as last time. It _was_ a bad night terror.” The contraction hit then and she let out a small groan. Worry flashed on Haymitch’s face but his features were soon schooled into something neutral. “I’m gonna call Larcher, alright?”

“I don’t think it is necessary to disturb him in the middle of the night.” she denied. “I… Let’s wait and see if it calms down. We can call him in the morning.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I’m _so_ not getting this baby out myself, Effie…”

“The pain isn’t bad.” she countered. “I promise if I don’t feel better in half an hour, we will call.”

He wasn’t happy with the compromise but he gave her a brief nod. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I want a shower.” she winced. “I _need_ …”

“I know what you need but we’re gonna have to put the baby’s need first, yeah?” he cut her off. “Right now the baby needs you to lie down and rest.”

“Maybe a bath…” she tried to argue.

“I’m not risking putting you in hot water.” he refused. “The shrimp might take that as a sign it’s time to come out.”

She knew he was right  but it didn’t make it any easier to stomach. He switched on all the lights he could upstairs without her having to ask and, for that, she was grateful. He supported her all the way back to the bedroom, pursing his lips when a new contraction hit.

“The pain is not bad.” she sighed as he helped her sit on the bed. “It isn’t labor, Haymitch.”

“Can you even rate pain, right now?” he retorted – not _mean_ but a bit _harsh_ because he was worried.

Besides, it was a pertinent question.

She was so locked up in her memories… It was hard sometimes to make the difference between them and the reality when the experience was so intense as that nightmare had been. Her pain threshold had become very high since the war and…

“I really do not think it is bad.” she whispered, crawling back on the bed to lie down. She let him tuck her in because it was plain to see he needed to _do something_. “I swear, Haymitch, I wouldn’t… I would _never_ put the baby at risk.”

He opened his mouth and shut it again before he could say anything.

It didn’t matter, she knew what he had been about to reply: that it wasn’t what she had been claiming ever since she had woke up.

She tried not to resent it.

She was too confused herself by the thoughts in her own head.

“I would like a glass of water.” she requested instead.

His eyes roamed on her and then he nodded and disappeared in the bathroom. She closed her eyes, not quite surprised to feel the mattress dip a few seconds later. She opened her arm, smiling when she felt the warm body snuggling against her side.

“You’re cheating on me.” Haymitch snorted and she opened her eyes in time to grab the glass of water and a handkerchief. She took a grateful sip and then pressed the fabric to her nose while he ruffled Snowball’s fur. The puppy looked uncertain, as if he was picking up on the tension. She petted him with her free hand.

The handkerchief smelt like lavender. It was a strong pungent smell, which was why she used it to do the laundry. She couldn’t bear bad smells since prison, it was an immediate trigger, hence her obsessive cleaning sprees. The lavender helped her ground herself.

For a while, they just stayed like that. Haymitch was sitting on the side of the bed, absentmindedly petting the puppy huddled against her side, and she breathed in the lavender, occasionally taking a sip of water.

Eventually, the contractions spaced out from four to seven minutes and then only came randomly. After an hour of this tensed waiting, Haymitch finally relaxed enough to lie down next to her, sandwiching Snowball between them.

“You trust me, Effie?” he asked.

“Is that even a question?” she huffed tiredly.

He rolled on his side to watch her, head propped on his elbow. “One hundred percent?”

“With my life.” she promised. “You _know_ I do.”

“With our son’s life?” he insisted.

She didn’t even bat an eyelash, she didn’t even hesitate for a single second. “Yes.”

“Then you need to trust me when I say you’re _never_ gonna harm him.” he stated calmly. She dropped her eyes to the puppy but he reached out and covered the hand that was petting Snowball with his own. “You’re not a killer and you’re certainly not a victor.”

“Did you forget Clay?” she spat and the name left a bad taste in her mouth.

“That’s different.” he shrugged. “Survivors kill to _survive_. Victors… There’s always a sick part of us that comes to enjoy it in the end, you know. That’s what the arena does to you… It…” It was his turn to avert his eyes. He stared at their hands instead of looking at her. “It’s a thrill ‘cause their death means your life. It’s a twisted game. Even if you don’t want to play… It catches up with you. And you enjoy it. Maybe it’s innocent at first ‘cause it just means you’re glad to be alive. Maybe it lasts only a second but… It’s enough. You _enjoy_ it. ‘Cause you’re _powerful_. You take their lives and, in that world, you’re a _god_. That’s why so many victors have gone crazy over the years. Once you let the monster out to play, it’s hard to rail it in.”

“I know.” she whispered.

“Do you?” he snorted.

The Capitol had never advertized that side of things, of course, and she had had no firsthand experience because Haymitch, despite his alcoholism, had always been… _tamed_ in his violent urges. He had been brutal at times, he still was sometimes, but he had never lifted a finger on her – pushed her against a wall, yes, shoved her out of the way a few times, but he had never _hurt_ her. Some other victors… Some of them were charming in public but could be very difficult to control in private, she had heard tales from other escorts that had left her feeling grateful for Haymitch’s difficult attitude.

And, naturally, there were the victors nobody talked about, that had been quickly forgotten by the general audience because the Gamemakers had wanted it that way. Those who had suffered tragic accidents or had succumbed to a timely illness. There had only been rumors about those, the ones who had never been able to make the difference between the arena and the real world, the ones who had grown addicted to killing…

The problem had mostly concerned the Careers, those who had fought to volunteer… Those who had already been unstable before going in…

She had always known some tributes took pleasure in the act of killing.

Haymitch had never been overly sharing with his time in the arena. He had told her some over the years, mainly when he had been too wasted and too desperate for human comfort to know better. The only time he had really talked about it while he was sober was on the third Quell’s Reaping day.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked slowly. “Even for a second?”

Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips nervously.

There was no good answer there. One would make him feel worse about himself, the other would be admitting her worst fears were true.

And he knew her better than she knew herself, it seemed.

“No.” she offered, choosing honesty over sparing his feelings.

“No.” he repeated with a small smile, there was a hint of sadness to it. “Because you’re a _survivor_ , not a victor. You will do whatever you need to protect this kid, sweetheart, including killing someone, but that doesn’t make you a killer. And it certainly doesn’t mean you’re going to hurt him.”

“I would kill myself before I purposefully hurt him.” she confessed in a murmur.

“I know.” he said, his tone hard. “I would too.”

“I love our baby _so much_.” Her voice broke and she searched his eyes, pleading with him to understand. “But I’m _so_ scared _. All the time_. It’s been almost three years… _When_ will it go _away_?”

“Sweetheart…” he breathed out. The pain she could hear in there… He nudged Snowball aside so he could hold her – try to, at least, because it wasn’t as easy as it used to be with her stomach – the dog was stubborn though and he settled against Haymitch’s back. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” she countered immediately, almost automatically. Because they couldn’t go back to that, to casting blames. She needed him too much to waste time hating him for something that had been out of his control.

As he had said when they had first discovered she was pregnant, it was too complicated to start laying blame at everyone’s door.

She had forgiven him for failing to rescue her sooner.

 “I was feeling better.” she sighed. “Lately… I… I thought maybe it was over. That I could truly put it in the past. Peeta and Katniss are doing so much better… Even Annie… Johanna is Johanna but even she looks content and…”

“You can’t compare.” he chided her. “Look at me… I’ve been in limbo for almost twenty-five years.”

“But you _are_ better.” she argued. “You are sober and more confident about the baby that…”

“I’m scared _shitless_ about the baby.” he scoffed. “And being sober… It’s not _that_ easy.”

“I know.” She regretted making that comment. She knew it wasn’t easy. He was good at sparing her – because she was pregnant, she suspected – but he had days when his temper got the better of him. The tremors in his fingers frustrated him, the headaches and the _thirst_ … “I am sorry, that is not what I meant. I mean… You are not afraid you are going to harm him.”

“Sure, I’m afraid I’m going to harm him.” he shrugged, pressing a kiss against her head. “I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck up and the boy will hate me. I’m afraid I’m gonna be the worst father ever. I’m afraid I’m gonna relapse and let him down…” He let out a deep sigh. “But if you’re asking if I’m afraid I’m ever gonna beat up my kid or try to murder him, the answer’s no. ‘Cause that won’t happen. And I’m not saying that ‘cause I’m confident about the baby, I’m saying that ‘cause I’m confident about you kicking my ass if that ever happens. I trust you to protect the kid from me if need be. I trust you more than I trust myself.”

She took that in stride and then scoffed. “You would never hit our child.”

“You’re sure of that?” he challenged bitterly.

“ _Of course_ , I am.” she retorted. “I would not be with you if I thought you were that sort of men.”

“And you think I would be with you if I thought you were that sort of women?” he mocked. “The way you’re sure I would never hurt him, I’m sure you would never do it either.”

Something uncoiled in her belly and she felt the tension leave her shoulders.

“And you will stop me.” she declared. “If I snap and go crazy… If I try to…”

“You won’t.” he cut her off.

“But _if_ I do, you will stop me.” she insisted, the dream still too present in her mind for her to dismiss it. “Because, right now, between you and me, I am the most unstable. And I need to know…”

“ _No one_ is ever going to harm our child on my watch.” he interrupted again. “If that’s what you need to hear… Fine. I’ll stop you.” 

She managed a shaky smile. “Alright, then.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “You haven’t had a contraction in a while… I think we’re safe.”

“We should still call Larcher first thing in the morning.” she commented. She took a deep breath and realized she didn’t need the handkerchief she had kept close to her face. “I feel better.”

“Good.” he smirked. “You wanna try to go back to sleep? I can make you some chamomile…”

She shook her head, snuggling as close to him as she could with her stomach in the way. “I did not mean about the nightmare, I meant… about everything.”

“Even better.” he snorted. “See? I give great pep talks. Don’t know what Katniss was complaining about all those years…”

She chuckled because she couldn’t help it – and she didn’t _want_ to help it either, it felt good to be _happy_. She pressed a kiss against his jaw, making a note to tell him to shave the following morning. Scruffy stubble was all well and good but she drew the line at unkempt beard.

“You are not a monster.” she whispered. Because that was what his little speech about victors had been about. And it was a recurrent enough fear of his.

He was silent for the longest time. Snowball’s soft snores were lulling her back to sleep when he spoke. His voice was rough, as always when he was battling with his own feelings.

“Your guard, the one I killed, I made it last and I enjoyed it. The things he was saying about you… The things he said he had done…” He clucked his tongue. “I don’t even regret it.” He shook his head. “The Games… What I did in there… That’s _something_ that happened to _me_ … That was kill or be killed… But… _I_ happened to other people too. _I_ happened to the tributes I killed, to their families… The moment I forget _that_ … ”

He didn’t finish his sentence but she understood what he meant anyway. Calling himself a monster, accepting his actions… It was his way of making sure he never crossed a line he would never come back from.

“I love you.” she offered as if the words had some magical properties.

“And I’m grateful for that.” he admitted, in a rare show of hand. “I’ve been grateful for that for a long time ‘cause that’s more than I ever deserved. What we have right now… It’s more than I ever thought I would get. Look…” He hesitated for a second, took a deep breath. “I’m not an optimist but I really think we’re gonna be alright, sweetheart. I’m even pretty sure we’re gonna be happy.”

She smiled, stroking her stomach. “He will turn our life upside down.”

“In a good way.” he promised.

“Of course.” she hummed. “I never thought I would have one of my own, you know… Even before the war… Before the doctors said…”

“Don’t remind me about them.” He rolled his eyes. “Bunch of incompetents.”

“Perhaps it is a good thing they were.” she pointed out “I would have stuck to birth control otherwise and we wouldn’t be expecting Aidan.”

He grumbled some things she didn’t quite catch but that certainly weren’t niceties for the doctors. Then he cleared his throat. “He’s a bit of a miracle.”

“I like that.” she grinned “Our miracle.”

“Our son.” he said proudly.

He liked saying that out loud, she had noticed. As much as the words had freaked him out at first, he now uttered them at every opportunity. _Our boy_. _Our son_. _Our shrimp_. He would be a doting father, she had no doubt of that.

“Our son.” she answered with no less amount of pride.

She loved the sound of that too.

 

 


	31. Thirty-Nine Weeks

April was slowly ending in an uncharacteristic show of nice weather.

Spring was in the air and Haymitch breathed in its particular smell with gratefulness when he stepped outside to feed the geese. He hadn’t been expecting to find the boy outside but, then again, the kids were so often around their house that it wasn’t really a surprise either.

“Having fun?” he snorted, tossing the mix of grains and crumbs in the pen. As one, the gaggle rushed from every corner of the backyard to get their share.

Peeta dropped the notepad he had been drawing on on his lap, the half-finished sketch of a goose abandoned as he stretched his arms high above his head. He was sitting cross-legged in a corner of the yard.

“Enjoying the weather.” the kid admitted. “I’ve been stuck at the bakery all week.”

“It’s doing well.” Haymitch commented, happy for him.

Reopening the bakery had asked time, funds and a lot of energy. Peeta hadn’t even been sure it would be profitable. _Mellark’s Bakery_ was an institution in Twelve but with its almost three years of absence and the always developing District… There were two other bakeries now and no gap to fill.

Being famous had that advantage that the reopening had attracted people and Peeta being as good a baker as he was… Business was alright for now.

“It was never really about making money, you know.” Peeta shrugged, struggling to get up. Haymitch didn’t offer any help. Peeta was too nice to say so but he didn’t like it when people implied he couldn’t do things because of his leg. “It was more… It was a family thing. There’s been four generations of Mellarks owning that bakery.”

“Yeah, I know.” he offered.

He remembered Peeta’s grandfather from when he had been a kid. The guy had sported impressive whiskers and a furry mustache that frightened all the children. He had been kind though. He had often given more than people could pay for when he could afford it.

It was something Peeta’s mother had put an end to as soon as she had married his father.

He leaned against the pen, careful not to disturb the geese – he didn’t fancy getting bitten because they thought he wanted to steal their meal.

“I thought it would be nice if… You know, in case, one day…” The boy looked strangely guilty and he cleared his throat without finishing his sentence. Haymitch had a good idea what he wanted to say but didn’t try to word it for him. He was _so_ not getting involved in that particular argument between Katniss and Peeta. And the kid must have felt his reluctance because he switched topics. “How’s Effie?”

 _That_ was a question he could answer without problem.

He rolled his eyes. “Driving me nuts.”

During his last visit, three days earlier, Larcher had warned them labor could start at any moment now and that they needed to be ready for it. _Effie_ was more than ready for it. She was going completely crazy. She complained every second of every day and he always made an effort to sympathize up until he snapped and escaped to the backyard – ideally in those moments he would have loved to take Snowball for a stroll but he didn’t dare go too far from the house in case her water actually broke. She was utterly done with being pregnant. The baby was pressing on her ribcage and it made her dizzy, she needed to pee every two minutes, she had heartburns, back aches, her ankles were swollen… She hated having to lounge on the couch or on the bed all day but she was too tired to do anything taxing…

“Katniss said she knitted enough clothes to dress the boy until he’s five.” Peeta grinned, coming to lean against the pen next to him, elbows propped on the wood.

“She ran out of wool yesterday morning. She’s monogramming stuff now.” he scoffed. _Bless Eileen Clarke_ who had saved him an embarrassing trip to the notions store by bringing up to the Village everything Effie needed to keep busy. “There are _A.A.s_ everywhere, like it’s important his initials are on bibs or handkerchiefs.”

And one would think that as long as she was embroidering she wasn’t pestering him but she was _awfully_ good at multitasking.

“I think she’s really impatient to meet him.” the boy chuckled.

“Yeah.” His mouth stretched into a small tight smile. She had been doing… _better_ in the last couple of weeks, finally voicing her fears must have been helpful because as bad as that last night terror had been… She hadn’t been having nightmares since. She had been a little on edge for a few days afterwards but it had simply been the natural apprehension of going to sleep knowing what might happen, not anxiety about the baby’s arrival. On that front, his reassurances seemed to have worked.

Now, if only _he_ wasn’t completely terrified…

“And you?” Peeta prompted, elbowing him playfully.

“Not sure.” he admitted. As long as Effie was carrying the baby, everything was fine, there was no risk of accidentally hurting him or… It was still hypothetical, an ‘ _eventually’_ he had grown comfortable with. Having a real screaming baby on their hands now… “I mean…”

“You’re nervous.” the boy nodded wisely. “I guess that’s normal. You shouldn’t be, it will be fine. _You_ will be fine.”

He was a bit stunned by the confidence everyone seemed to have in his paternal abilities.

“Sure hope so ‘cause it’s not like we can bring him back and fill for a refund.” he deadpanned. His hands were shaking and he discreetly squeezed them into fists. _Nervous_ didn’t cover what he was feeling. What he was feeling was a strange mix of impatience, dread, anxiety and… Yeah, _love_. And it frightened him. It frightened him to no end. “The waiting’s the hardest part”

The fact that it could happen _any time_ … It was an endless agonizing wait and Haymitch _hated_ that with every fiber of his being.

They watched the geese in silence for a while. Peeta was distractedly playing with his pencil and Haymitch wished he would just spit it out – he _also_ wished the boy had brought his problems to Effie because she was better at dealing with him just like he handled Katniss more easily but given the fact that she was biting everyone’s head off for no good reason, it might not have been the best idea.

“Can I ask you something?” the kid asked after ten minutes of pointless staring at the birds.

“Sure.” he sighed, already knowing what would follow.

For once, Effie had been uncharacteristically oblivious – because as far as she was concerned, it was all about herself right now, and since she was about to eject something the size of a watermelon out of her body, he was granting her a free pass – but he hadn’t. The kids had been caught in an odd cold war for a week or so. It wasn’t that they were fighting… At least he _didn’t_ _think_ they were fighting… But there was certainly a tension between them that didn’t use to be there.

And Haymitch had an inkling as to what it was about.

He was surprised it hadn’t come up before actually.

“You didn’t want kids, right?” Peeta’s voice was uncertain, as if he was afraid Haymitch would snarl and bolt – and he might have if he hadn’t sensed it was crucial to help the kids get past whatever was troubling them. “I mean… Before Effie…”

“No.” he confirmed.

He should have bet it was about that. He had been _so_ sure.

And people said he wasn’t good with feelings.

“So… What changed your mind? I mean you…” Peeta hesitated.

“We didn’t _plan_ it, boy.” he cut him off. “Nothing _changed my mind_. It happened and when stuff like this happens… You’ve got responsibilities, yeah?”

“But you want it. _Him_.” the kid insisted. “You told me yourself. You want the baby.”

“Of course, I want the baby.” he sneered. “He’s _mine_ and he’s _here_. Doesn’t mean that… Look, it was an accident. You saw how difficult it was for us to decide what to do.”

“You’re just stubborn.” Peeta dismissed. “I always knew you would keep him.”

“Good for you ‘cause _I_ didn’t.” he scoffed. “We never planned on this. We never even _discussed_ it ‘cause Effie knew from the very start I…” He shook his head. There was no explaining the relationship he and Effie had shared. They had known each other for so long… They had never actually had the _having children_ conversation because they had both known where they stood. Had Effie wanted a family once upon a time? Probably. So had he before the Games had ripped that away from him. But it was a fantasy they had both laid to rest along the way. They had the children, they had each other, it had been all the family they had needed. “She knew what she was getting into.” he said, more calmly. “She’d never have forced a baby on me.”

“You were more thrilled than she was at first.” Peeta reminded him. “You…”

“There’s a difference between…” He let his voice trail off, not sure how to best explain that. “We didn’t want him, we weren’t _trying_ for a baby. Now he’s here and, yeah, we _do_ want him. _Now_. But it wasn’t easy. You saw it wasn’t easy.”

“But you did it.” the boy insisted.

Haymitch felt as if they were getting nowhere.

“Look, kid…” he breathed out, deciding that they were done beating around the bush. “You’re barely twenty, why don’t you worry about that in ten years or so?”

It was none of his business, that was for sure, but Katniss and Peeta were too young to have children. They were barely stable themselves, they didn’t need to be responsible for someone else on top of that. Well… Perhaps the boy was ready for it but Katniss sure as hell _wasn’t_.

“Katniss said _never_.” Peeta scoffed bitterly, _finally_ getting it out. Haymitch had guessed it was about that all along. “Not now, not in a few years… Never.”

“She lost her sister only three years ago.” he reminded her.  “A sister she kind of _raised_.”

“I know.” the boy snapped in an uncharacteristic loss of temper. “Don’t you think I know? But… The grief won’t always be fresh and…”

“You weren’t at the City Circle that day.” Haymitch cut him off. “You didn’t see the kids.”

“You weren’t either.” Peeta remarked.

“I watched it on a screen.” he snarled. “I watched and…” He shook his head. “It’s not just about Prim, boy. It’s about Prim and Rue and every _damn_ child she saw die that day. It’s about her always ending up losing people she’s responsible for, people she _fucking_ loves. Maybe she’s scared she can’t take the pain if it happens again. Maybe she’s scared it will be what finally does her in.”

“Or maybe you’re projecting.” Peeta countered quietly.

Haymitch clenched his jaw and turned his head away, staring at the side of the house, trying not to let his temper get the best of him. He didn’t want to fight with the kid but…

“We’re more alike than you think.” he spat.

“But if you changed your mind…” the boy pressed.

“Don’t _fucking_ pressure her into anything.” he interrupted. “She told you her stance on this. You can’t live with it, then you walk away. Decide you love her enough to accept it or _walk_ _away_. You don’t get to guilt trip her about this and you don’t get to lord it over her head all her life. You decide what you want more.”

Peeta was silent for a long time.

“Still taking her side, aren’t you?” the boy snorted, a little bitterly. “You always stand with the Mockingjay in the end…”

“I protect her.” he countered. “Just like I protect you.”

“ _I_ protect her.” Peeta argued. “That’s _my_ job.” It was his turn to shake his head. “Why is it I’m always the one doing the sacrificing? Why is it it’s always me who has to give up everything for her?” The boy kicked the fence with his bad leg without much strength. It still sent the geese honking and quacking. “I would never pressure her into something she doesn’t want. I _love_ her. I just wish she wasn’t so firm about this, I just wish she would say we can talk about it again _someday_. I just wish… Never mind.”

Haymitch buried his hands in his pockets with an unconvinced pout. He looked down at his boots and shrugged. “I’m sorry, boy, there’s no magic words here. Life surprises you sometimes, that’s all I can say.”

“I guess.” the kid chuckled but it wasn’t amused in the slightest. “I should go home.”

“Yeah, you should.” he agreed. “It beats freezing your butt off to draw birds.” Because the weather might be warmer but he didn’t think it was warm enough to sit on the ground for long periods of time without moving. He squeezed the kid’s shoulder. “Give it time.”

He left him at the pen and walked back inside, certain he had been gone too long and it would warrant him a lecture.

He found Effie in the living-room, sitting on the couch with her arms crossed in front of her chest, having a silent stare down with Snowball. The reason for the tension in the room was clear: the blue teddy bear abandoned between the dog’s front paws. Another theft from the nursery, no doubt.

“Thought you had closed the door?” he frowned, dropping on the couch next to her.

“It seems he learned how to open it.” she hissed. “He is a very, _very_ bad doggy.”

Snowball let out a whine and lied down, placing his head on his paws with his best kicked puppy look.

“Comedian.” Haymitch accused with a snort. He leaned in to snatch the bear and inspect it. “This one isn’t damp with drool, at least.”

Effie gave it a glance. “Put it in the washing machine, I will see what I can do. I do _not_ want anything unsanitary near my son.”

“Hear that, Snowball? You’re _unsanitary._ ” he mocked.

“His drool is.” she argued. “What took you so long?”

“Peeta.” he sighed, slouching against the back of the couch in the manner she always despised.

She didn’t say anything for once, she was frowning. “Why? Is something wrong? Did he have an episode? Is it Katniss?”

“Don’t fret so much, you’re not supposed to stress.” he reminded her, only to be treated to a glare.

“What is the worst that can happen? My water _finally_ breaking?” she retorted.

“Point taken.” he granted, lifting both hands in a peace offering. “It’s nothing big.”

She studied him for a moment and then pursed her lips. Probably sensing that he was off the hook now that Haymitch was the one in trouble, Snowball made a quiet but strategic exit.

“You are hiding things from me.” she accused.

He rolled his eyes at her theatrics. Why did she _always_ have to be dramatic? “I’m hiding _nothing_ , Princess. It’s all in plain sight. You’ve just been really blind lately.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What is going on, Haymitch? Do _not_ make me ask again.”

The petulant tone made him smirk. He liked her bossy side. He complained about it, he raged about it, he claimed he hated it… But he _loved_ her bossy side. It turned him on. Perhaps not when she was looking ready to burst but…

“Peeta wants kids. Katniss doesn’t.” he summed up. He didn’t need to say much more for her to understand the underlying problems. She winced and placed a hand on her stomach. He immediately lost his casual attitude. He sat up, reaching for her stomach too, his other hand grabbing her elbow. “You’re okay? You’re having contractions? Is it time? Let me call…”

“Will you stop?” she huffed. “I am _not_ having contractions, I am simply…” She sighed. “I feel like a balloon who is about to pop. I _want_ to give birth.”

“I know, sweetheart.” he sympathized, rubbing her arm. Clearly, it wasn’t the right thing to do because she shrugged him off. She was a bit on the irrational side those days so he let it drop.

“The children, now.” she said, bringing them back on topic.

He slowly dropped his hand from her stomach to shrug. “There’s not much more to say, is there?”

“I suppose not.” she sighed. “But they are still so young… Katniss might reconsider in time.”

“Maybe.” he said, not quite convinced.

She leaned more firmly into the couch – no doubt, trying to find a comfortable position – and dropped her head on the back of it with another sigh. She distractedly played with her wedding band while staring at the ceiling.

“Life is never how you thought it would be, is it?” she asked softly. “When I was twenty… I wanted to be famous, _revered_. I _truly_ wasn’t dreaming of living in District Twelve, of being unemployed, of being desperate to get out of the spotlight or even of giving birth at home because I would have been too scared of going to a hospital.”

“You were dreaming of being married to me though.” he teased, a tad too smug.

She let her head roll to the side so she could glare at him but it was mild and amused. They hadn’t yet met when she had been twenty but her crush on him had been a long withstanding one.

“My point is… Who knows how they will both feel in ten years?” she replied. “I spent so much time trying to achieve my own dreams… Being an escort… That life I desired so much… It made me unhappy most of the time. If I had died in prison…” She shook her head. “I am determined to enjoy the moment now.”

“Me too.” he admitted, leaning in to steal a kiss. He bumped his nose against her cheek playfully. “Look at us getting all wise and _shit_ with age, sweetheart…”

She chuckled at his antics but coiled a hand around his neck to push him away. She felt a bit crowded because she was too big, he guessed.

“I will have a talk with Peeta as soon as possible.” she informed him.

“Good ‘cause you’re better than me with him.” he snorted. “He always ends up thinking I love the girl better.”

“Well, to be fair, you _do_ tend to favor Katniss.” she pointed out. “You are overprotective of her.”

“I _ain’t_.” he scoffed.

“Oh, yes, you _are_.” she laughed, rubbing her stomach. “It is probably a good thing we are having a boy because if we had been having a girl, you would have been wrapped around her little finger.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be wrapped around the shrimp’s little finger too, you know.” he mumbled, covering the hand she had placed on her stomach. “Fair warning.”

Her lips twitched but she managed to bite back the grin. “Consider me warned.”

They both watched her stomach for a while, waiting for… He wasn’t sure what.

“He’s not going to come out today, yeah?” he sighed with some disappointment.

“The day isn’t over yet.” she scowled. “Let me hope.”

He swallowed back his chuckles, certain that they would have earned him to be smothered with a cushion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you as impatient as Effie to see this baby? ;) Do you think Katniss and Peeta will get through this phase? Let me know your thoughts!


	32. Forty Weeks

Effie made a face but she forced the spoon to her lips  nonetheless and then swallowed everything only to start coughing like a madwoman. The yellow walls of the kitchen briefly blurred when the spicy flavor exploded in her mouth. Her eyes watered, she started coughing… But she soldiered on and took another spoonful of her homemade soup.

“The _fuck_ are you doing up so early?” Haymitch grumbled, stumbling into the room half awake.

He was naked – because, as always when the weather started getting warmer, he didn’t like to be constricted by clothes when he slept. She let her eyes roam appreciatively on his body as she rode off the coughing, even as annoyed as she was that he kept to this improper habit of walking around without at least some underwear on – there had been numerous incidents of the children finding him like _that_ , although they didn’t even blink anymore.

How he could still be somehow in shape was a mystery to her. He didn’t do much exercising and the drinking had taken its toll on his body. There was a small pouch of fat around his waist and his butt wasn’t as firm as it used to be. Still, a few months of being forced to follow a healthy diet because of her pregnancy and the actual sobriety had done him some good. He had lost some weight, helping Peeta at the bakery had developed some muscles, and the sight of a naked him was still enough to give her _ideas_.

Even as she was coughing to death.

“Language.” she managed to croak, bringing the spoon to her lips for the third time.

He grabbed her wrist before she could put the thick red soup in her mouth.

“The _fuck_ is that?” he frowned. His eyes were bright, the smell enough to make them itch.

“ _Language_.” she insisted. “And, _truly_ , how many times will I have to tell you to put on some pants when you get up, Haymitch?”

She tut-tutted but he wasn’t so easily distracted.

“Effie.” he snapped impatiently, now completely awake if not a bit wary.

“I read spicy food can trigger labor.” she admitted in a sigh.

“Larcher told you…” he started but she didn’t let him go very far. She knew that tune by heart, she had been hearing for days.

“Larcher told me to be patient, yes, I remember.” she hissed. “ _Well_. I _have_ _been_ patient. But I am _done_. I want coffee. I want eggs. I want… I want _not_ to feel like _this_ anymore.” Tears burned her eyes for reasons that had nothing to do with the soup. “I am _tired_. I am _so, so_ tired.”

She was _well_ past her due date. She was supposed to have given birth on the third week of April and now May was about to start and there was still no baby. She felt huge and heavy and it was simply _too much_.

Besides, if Aidan still refused to come out by himself in a few days time, Larcher had warned her there would be no other choice but to bring her in at the clinic and medically induce labor. She really, _really_ didn’t want to give birth at the clinic.

Haymitch pursed his lips but didn’t outright disapprove. He distractedly rubbed her shoulder, studying the red soup with doubt written all over his face.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

“Tomatoes and some cayenne pepper.” she explained.

“And where did you get _that_?” he snorted. “Sneaking behind my back, are you?”

“Eileen brought it.” she pouted. “ _She_ understands.”

He rolled his eyes but dragged back a chair to sit next to her. She almost told him not to sit on chairs that other people would use while naked but then thought better of it and dropped the matter. There were more urgent concerns.

“You’re sure it’s not dangerous?” he insisted.

She shook her head. “Not according to the books. There are different tricks but everyone seemed to agree it was the most efficient one.”

He looked more curious than worried now. He stirred the soup and brought the spoon to his lips, barely poking at it with his tongue only to immediately make a face and place it back in the bowl. “And that’s working?”

“If the desired result was to make me feel ill, it would _certainly_ be working.” she huffed. “As far as triggering labor goes though…”

She pushed the bowl away with a disappointed pout.

He covered her hand on the table and squeezed her fingers. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.”

“Easy for _you_ to say.” she hissed, pushing herself to her feet. _The strain_ on her back… And the size of her… She had already designed a program to get back in shape after the birth – _not_ that he was aware. She groaned and placed both hands on her stomach when Aidan kicked her. “I want him _out_.”

“I know, Princess.” he winced. “Not long now.”

“You have been saying that for _more_ than _a week_.” she accused before dismissing it with an angry wave of her hand. “I will go check everything is ready in the nursery.”

“You’ve checked that a million times already.” he scoffed but, faced with her glaring, he lifted both hands in front of him. “Fine, fine… Check away.”

“You should get dressed.” she advised, certain one of the children would wander in before long. They didn’t want to miss anything. Katniss was squeamish about the whole thing but she wanted to offer her support – which Effie appreciated. As for Peeta, he had made it clear he would sit the whole thing out in the living-room and intended to be the first to be introduced to their family’s new addition. “Where is Snowball?”

“No idea.” he shrugged. “Thought you had let him out.”

“No.” she frowned. “He must be around somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Haymitch answered distractedly, standing up to go straight to the coffee machine.

She left with a huff, irritated by his insensitivity. She _loved_ coffee. He knew how much she loved coffee. And there _he_ was, making himself a cup even though _she_ couldn’t drink it because _he_ had put a baby in her.

The stairs were _hard_ to manage but she forced herself to go through with it. She had been pushing herself to go up and down a few times a day for two days because she had read exercise was another way to trigger labor. Walking around helped, apparently. Something to do with gravity.

It wasn’t helping her.

She had to stop three times during her climbing to catch her breath, leaning heavily on the banister. She didn’t have the smallest of contraction.

The nursery’s door was open when she was certain she had shut it the night before. She pursed her lips and pushed it wider, not at all surprised to find the puppy lying on the cream rug next to the crib. He hadn’t stolen another stuffed toy though, so she supposed they were making some progress.  

“What are you doing here, my pretty baby?” she coaxed as the dog immediately jumped up and ran to her to properly greet her. She bent in two to pat his head, her free arm wrapped around her stomach because it felt as if she would either lose it or tilt over. “Are you impatient too? You are, aren’t you?” Snowball barked once, always joyful, pushing her hand with his head, eager for attention. It made her smile. “You want a friend to play with…”

“Maybe we should get another dog.” Haymitch snorted, leaning against the doorframe.

He was still naked and he was sipping from a mug full of coffee.

For both offenses, she shot him another glare.

“The house will be full enough as it is.” she declared. Snowball scampered off to Haymitch and she turned away to inspect the clothes she had left out on the white dresser. The blue romper embroidered with _Aidan_ on the front was waiting next to the cat ragdoll Haymitch had brought with him to Four. There was a cute matching blue beanie and a soft baby blanket she had knitted herself especially for him to be wrapped in right after the birth… Everything was _ready_ and… “I just want to hold him.” she whispered.

The mug of coffee was placed on the dresser – far enough from the clean clothes that she didn’t make a fuss – and arms were wrapped around her. She relaxed against his chest, resting her head against his when he propped his chin on her shoulder.

“Just think he’s got a good sense of irony already.” he teased. “Remember how scared you were of not carrying him to term?”

“It is not funny.” she complained.

“It’s _a little_ _bit_ funny.” he argued, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

She hummed but didn’t commit to anything. Perhaps there _was_ an ironical twist to this but… She wasn’t about to admit it.

“Don’t you want to hold him?” she insisted.

He hadn’t been very vocal about his own impatience. Ever since what she had taken to dub _the king of nightmares_ and their following conversation…. _She_ had felt better about what would come. Haymitch would be there and they would be fine. They would be together. They would both make sure nothing – and neither of them – would harm the baby. It made her feel more at peace.

Haymitch though…

She was certain he was having quiet panic attacks every time she wasn’t around.

“Sure, I do.” he mumbled, his thumbs drawing random patterns on her stomach. “I just hope I don’t screw up, that’s all.”

“You won’t.” she promised.

He remained silent for a moment and then he pressed another kiss against her neck.

“All this waiting… It makes me crave a _fucking_ drink.” he confessed. “I’m… Yeah. It’s been a bit of a problem for a week or so…”

“But you won’t relapse.” she declared. “I know you won’t.”

Her calm confidence seemed to do the trick. He relaxed.

“I don’t deserve you.” he muttered. “Or any of this.”

She nuzzled his cheek with her nose in rebuke. “We have to stop thinking like this. You and me both. It is _not_ healthy and our child will _need_ a healthy environment. Whatever we do, whatever happens, he has to come first now.”

“He already does.” he countered, turning his head to steal a kiss.

He had intended it to be sweet, she figured, but she deepened it. She reached behind her for his nape and urged him closer until she felt breathless.

“You know…” she grinned, pressing herself harder against his naked body. “Sex is another good way of getting things to move along…”

He snorted against her mouth but angled his hips away. “I’m _so_ not going to fuck you when the kid could pop out any second.”

“Are you saying you do not want me?” she argued, a touch of steel in her voice. She captured his mouth again, using tongue and teeth and everything that usually made him cave to her wishes.

“I’m saying I ain’t risking it.” he grumbled.

“It has been _weeks_.” she snapped. “I want to have sex, Haymitch.”

She wanted sex almost as much as she wanted coffee.

“We couldn’t make it work even if we wanted to.” he countered. “Come on… Be reasonable.”

“ _Reasonable_?” she growled, drawing back to glare at him.

He stepped back – and almost tripped over Snowball who had dutifully lied down at his feet – both hands up once more. He did that a lot. Trying to appease her by lifting his hands in the air…

“You’re all hormonal.” he accused.

“I am ready to _burst_.” she hissed.

“ _Yeah_. Precisely.” he shrugged. “Look, once the shrimp is out…”

“You _do_ realize it will be some time before we can actually have sex once the baby is born, yes?” she retorted. She narrowed her eyes at him with a huff. “If _ever_.” She eyed him up and down, her lips pursed. “Go get dressed then. And take your coffee with you. It is cruel to taunt me with things I cannot have.”

“So thirsty for me, Princess.” he mocked gently, snatching his mug back and disappearing in the corridor.

She dropped in the rocking-chair, feeling a bit dizzy. The baby was moving left and right, kicking her every organ. Snowball rested his head on her leg with a small whine, as if to commiserate, and she scratched his head. “Your owner is the _worst_ husband.”

She stayed like that for a while, distractedly petting the puppy, lightly rocking… She must have fallen asleep because next thing she knew, she opened her eyes and the sky was a light grey. She watched the drops of water run down the windows for a few minutes, trying to figure how long she had been napping.

Her body was all stiff when she finally gathered the strength to get up. Snowball was nowhere to be found so she supposed he was downstairs, next to the fireplace where he liked to lounge around when the weather didn’t allow him to go out – and she _hoped_ he hadn’t been allowed to go out because she wasn’t in _any_ mood to wash mud off his fur.

The corridor to the stairs felt endless and she had to stop several times to take a breath because Aidan was kicking hard. The actual stairs took her ten minutes but she eventually made her way to the living-room.

As she had thought, Snowball was sprawled in front of the fire, munching on a chewing toy shaped like a bone. As for Haymitch, he was lying on the couch, an arm folded behind his head, watching a news channel on TV.

“Anything interesting?” she asked. He didn’t watch TV often, that was more _her_ thing. He preferred books to movies and only humored her in watching when he wanted to do something nice for her – or _with_ her. He occasionally checked news channels though.

He glanced behind him and immediately stood up to help her to the couch. She argued that she didn’t need it but she was relieved to be able to lean on him.

“Not really.” he eventually answered, fishing the remote from the coffee table for her. “Some new laws about mining regulations… Good stuff.”

“That is nice.” she approved and he nodded. He liked President Paylor, she knew, not only as a politician but as a person. It was a comfort to him to know they hadn’t gone through the whole thing in vain.

“I’m done though. You can have the TV.” he shrugged. “You missed the kids… You’ve been asleep a while.”

Her eyes immediately darted to the clock and her eyes widened when she realized it was past noon. She must have been more tired than she had thought. “Has it been raining long?”

She mindlessly surfed through channels until she found a show she liked but she lowered the volume so it would only be a background noise.

“It comes and it goes.” he offered. “You know how it is in April.”

“April showers.” she hummed. “Would you be a darling and fetch me some tea?”

His grey eyes, so similar to the sky at that moment, twinkled with amusement. “You know… When this pregnancy is over… I won’t be your personal slave anymore… Sure you want it to end already?”

She grinned and lifted her left hand to show him her wedding ring. “I am your wife, I _do_ think that means you have to do whatever I say.”

He chuckled. “I knew I should have read the small prints.” He leaned in to peck her lips and stood up, immediately catching the dog’s attention. It made him roll his eyes. “ _Yeah_ , okay, time for you to eat.”

Snowball barked and bolted upright, scampering out of the room and to the kitchen faster than you could say _food_. It made her laugh.

“We _really_ ought to watch him. It won’t be good for him to get fat.” she warned.

“I’ll let him out as soon as the rain clears again.” Haymitch offered. “He can burn out the calories playing with the geese.” He waved that away. “What do you want for lunch? I was waiting for you.”

“Oh… I don’t know.” she winced, rubbing her stomach. “I am not very hungry. He keeps kicking me… It makes me feel nauseous.”

He didn’t look pleased with that. “You should eat something anyway, sweetheart. The spicy _shit_ can’t have fed you much. Tea and what? Toasts?”

She sighed but knew it was useless to argue. “Toasts with orange jam? Oh, and use the raspberry leaves for the tea, please. It is supposed to induce labor too.”

If he thought she didn’t see the slightly mocking smirk, he was mistaken. She chose not to call him out on it because she was tired and not quite refreshed by that nap. She settled as comfortably as she could on the couch, keeping her eyes on the TV but actually listening to the banging of cupboards in the kitchen. From time to time, she glanced through the window at the stormy sky. The rain, as Haymitch predicted, stopped after a few minutes and she heard him let the puppy out in the backyard.

She just hoped Snowball would have the good sense of _not_ jumping in puddles of mud.

It didn’t take very long for Haymitch to come back with a tray loaded with tea, some orange juice – because he argued she needed the vitamins – and a pile of toasts with jam. She nibbled on the food and sipped the bitter tea but couldn’t quite shake the nausea. Perhaps the spicy soup hadn’t been the best idea after all.

It was a quiet afternoon.

Haymitch was reading, she was watching TV, the dog was very busy trying to snap his chew toy in half…

Haymitch kept tossing her glances though and, after a while, she couldn’t take it anymore. “What is it?”

“Just wondering… This tea… It’s working?” he half-asked, half-mocked.

“Oh, _hush_ , will you.” she huffed.

She pointedly ignored him after that.

Around four, the rain started getting bad but Effie was warm and content in her cocoon. She had pulled a blanket on her lap and Snowball had curled up on her feet. She dozed off a little.

Only to spring awake when thunder boomed.

For a second, she thought it was the noise that had alarmed her but she soon realized she wasn’t the only one it had startled. Aidan was kicking like crazy and she groaned, almost doubling over in pain.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Haymitch immediately worried, crossing the room to reach for her.

“Well… Our son doesn’t like lightning storms.” she informed him, rubbing her stomach. “I think he is scared.”

“Breathe.” he ordered her. “You know… The way you hate.”

She rolled her eyes but followed his advice, taking in a deep breath only to let it out in small puffs. The kicking calmed down and she relaxed.

Lighting flashed in the room.

“Alright… Alright…” she hummed, still stroking her stomach. “There is nothing to be scared of now. It is just…”

Thunder boomed once more and, this time, she couldn’t help a short scream. The pain was…

“Effie…” Haymitch called, squeezing her hand, worry clear in his voice.

“I am fine.” she promised through clenched teeth. “I am _fine_. Help me up, would you? Perhaps if I walk around a little…”

The second he managed to haul her up, she felt something sticky and wet flood between her thighs. They both stared at the puddle on the floor with something akin to panic and disgust.

“Okay.” Haymitch said eventually. “ _Okay_. Maybe that tea wasn’t such a joke after all.”

“Never mind _the tea_ , it was the thunder.” she hissed. “We need to get the plastic sheets on the bed.”

“We need to call the midwife and Larcher and told them your water broke.” he corrected. “Sit back down, I will…”

“No! It will leave stains on the couch.” she argued. “What are you _thinking_?”

“I’m thinking we’re having a _fucking_ baby so who cares about the couch?” he spat and then his eyes widened and he turned so pale she was afraid he would faint. “We’re having a _fucking_ baby.”

“Do you need to sit down?” she asked, a tad ironical.

She wasn’t expecting him to _actually_ flop down on the couch.

“We’re having a _fucking_ baby.” he repeated, sounding so lost it might have been funny in another setting.

“Would you stop…” she started chiding him only to be hit by a contraction. She groaned and clenched her jaw in pain, trying to breathe through it. It didn’t seem to disturb Haymitch who was completely frozen, staring at her as if he had never seen her before, still absolutely too pale. “For the record, I thought you were good in times of crisis.”

She waddled to the hall, helping herself on the furniture and the walls, aiming for the phone in the kitchen. He caught up with her as she was unhooking it.

“We’re having a baby.” he said again.

“Yes, we _are_.” she hissed. “ _Do_ snap out of it.”

The panic on his face slowly morphed into an ecstatic smile and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“We’re having a baby.” he whispered.

“We’re having a baby.” she echoed.

For a second, she was almost euphoric.

Then another contraction hit and all she felt was _pain_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are weeeee having the baby? Who's excited???


	33. Forty Weeks (2)

“Deep breaths.” Haymitch reminded her, feeling like an ass for doing so.

If the glare she tossed his way was anything to go by, Effie shared the thought. He wished the midwife would be a little more present but aside from making sure there would be enough hot water, that everything was ready and, in Haymitch's opinion, wasting time not to suffer the blunt of Effie's anger, he wasn't finding her very unhelpful so far. Mariana regularly showed up in the bedroom to check on Effie but that was it. She had declared it was a special time for Haymitch and Effie to share and that she would only be intruding since there was nothing to do until Effie was ready to give birth.

He had had no idea it took _so long_ to give birth.

“Oh god.” Effie groaned, squeezing his hand.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna get back in bed?” he asked, spooked that she would just… _expulse_ the baby right there.

She had wanted to walk around to ease the contractions – and let gravity do its work – so they had been pacing the bedroom for what felt like hours. He was holding one of her hands to help her remain steady and had the other one at the small of her back. From time to time, they stopped so she could breathe through a contraction.

“How long since the last one?” she whimpered between two puffs of breath.

He glanced at the clock. “Still ten minutes apart.”

She let out a broken sob but clenched her jaw, rubbing her stomach with her free hand. “Alright. Alright.”

She must have been exhausted. They had been waiting for at least nine hours. It was pitch black outside, silent too aside for the soft occasional splashing of the rain against the glass of the window. He could hear the faint noises the kids made downstairs, either chatting with the midwife or keeping the puppy occupied.

“Larcher should be here soon.” he told her, trying to soothe her.

“Ten minutes apart means there is still a while to go yet.” she replied, slowly breathing out. “Have you phoned my family?”

“Peeta did.” he dismissed. What good would it do the Trinkets to know she was in labor? He didn’t particularly want Elindra to show up at the front door the very next morning. “Just focus on the baby.”

“The baby who is about to tear me apart, you mean?” she hissed and then shook her head. “I changed my mind. I want him to stay where he is. I cannot…”

Another contraction hit, cutting her off, and he winced with her.

“Sure you _can_.” he promised. “Come on, let’s get you back on the bed, yeah? You should keep some strength for… _you know_.” She nodded her assent and he helped her back on the plastic sheets the bed was wrapped in. “It’s gonna be fine. Just fine. We’ll have a baby before morning.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“I promise.” he offered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. And he hoped nobody would make him pay for a promise he had no business making. “You want anything? Some ice chips?”

She hummed her agreement so he pressed another kiss to her head and let her roll to the side, making sure she was as comfortable as possible, before hurrying downstairs. He met the midwife in the stairs, Mariana was coming up for a quick check.

Katniss and Peeta were sitting at the kitchen table, each clutching a cup of coffee in their hands. Snowball was lying at the boy’s feet and immediately lifted his head when he spotted Haymitch.

“How long yet?” Katniss sighed as Haymitch distractedly petted the puppy’s head on his way to the fridge. “Mariana says it can be hours still.”

“How’s Effie doing?” Peeta asked at the same time.

“She’s doing as good as you can expect.” he grumbled, filling a bowl with ice chips. “Can’t wait for this part to be over.”

He wasn’t doing great with seeing her in constant pain.

“I’m _never_ doing that.” Katniss made a face. “No wonder they were all going on and on about surrogates and stuff. It’s been _nine_ hours.”

“We know you don’t want it.” Peeta sighed. “Do you really _have_ to…”

“Hey.” Haymitch interrupted before it could escalate. “You don’t get into _this_ today. We’re having a baby. It’s a happy thing. No arguing, no distressing Effie with your stuff.”

The kids exchanged a look and then Katniss rolled her eyes. “Effie’s not here.”

“Fine.” he scowled. “No distressing _me_ with your stuff today.”

“Sorry, we’re _distressing_ you.” the girl sulked.

“I’m used to it.” he deadpanned, petting Snowball’s head on his way out of the kitchen. “Play nice. No, Snowball, _stay_.”

The puppy didn’t like not being allowed upstairs or to Effie. No doubt he could hear her or feel her being in pain and it was disturbing him.

Everything was pretty much as he had left it in the bedroom. Mariana was pulling a blanket on Effie to make sure she was warm enough and she quickly disappeared in the corridor again.

It was a bit surreal.

Everything was a bit surreal.

As if they were in a distorted time bubble that kept warping around itself.

He fed her ice chips, he held her hand through contractions… They didn’t talk a lot. She was trying to get some rest and he was busy having a silent and discreet panic attack. His hands were shaking so much it was lucky she was clinging to one of them. He wasn’t sure he could do this. He wasn’t sure…

“We will do it together.” she whispered, her eyes closed. “We will be fine as long as we are together.”

He wasn’t sure how she could know what he was thinking but he was grateful for her reassurances. He brushed her hair away from her face and promised himself he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. It _would_ be alright, he would make sure it was.

The contractions were six minutes apart when Larcher _finally_ showed up, absolutely not cowed by Haymitch accusative remark about him having taken his sweet time. They had been at it for a little over ten hours at that point and Haymitch felt exhausted – he couldn’t even imagine how _she_ must have been feeling.

“Everything is going as it should.” the doctor declared, after having examined her. “You are not quite ready yet, though, Effie.”

“I know, I know…” she muttered, pressing her hands on her face when another contraction hit. “Mariana told me.”

“How soon?” Haymitch worried.

Larcher shot him an indulgent look. “Soon enough.”

Soon enough turned out to be forty-five minutes. With the contractions two minutes apart, both the doctor and the midwife started to get very active, fussing over last minute details like surgical instruments, a stock of hot water, the blanket for the baby – a blanket Effie had knitted herself and that was so soft Haymitch thought it was almost a shame to use it now because he was pretty sure it would be ruined afterwards.

It was like getting caught in a whirlwind.

Before he really knew how it had happened, they prompted him to sit behind Effie, like they had rehearsed at those antenatal classes. The position was anything but comfortable and he really didn’t see why he couldn’t just sit next to her like everyone in those movies she forced him to watch did. It would help, the midwife had declared when the time to choose a position to give birth in had come – and who even knew you got to choose _that_? He was trapped between the headboard and Effie’s body, supporting her whole weight, encouraging her to lean on him, his legs framing hers… It allowed him to hold both of her hands though. Fingers entwined and ready to be crushed to death.

Another good thing was that the sheet they tossed on their knees prevented them from really seeing what was going on – something sitting next to her might not have allowed – and for that he was glad. He liked to keep some mysteries _mysterious_. It would also help making sure neither of them glimpse too much blood, Larcher being wary of triggering any bad reaction at a sensitive time.

“Haymitch…” Effie whispered between two huffs and puffs.

“Yeah?” He was staring at the clock, trying to time how far apart the contractions were but they seemed to be melting together now, there was no real recovery time… They came in short painful waves that made her groan and whimper.

“I am _never ever_ having sex with you again.” she informed him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “And there you were this morning… Trying to seduce me…”

“And you missed your last shot at having a sex life.” she retorted. “Are you regretting it now?”

Her question ended in a strangled noise when another contraction hit her.

Larcher cleared his throat, either to remind them they should focus on the baby coming and not on their bickering or to make sure  they remembered they weren’t alone in the room.

“Effie, how are we doing with the pain?” the doctor asked.

“ _We_?” she hissed. “My sincere apologies, I did not notice you were suffering with me.”

“That was a bit condescending, Doctor.” Mariana joked. “How are _you_ doing, Effie?”

“Like I am about to give birth.” she retorted.

“I’m sorry, I meant to ask if you were doing alright.” Larcher clarified, more amused than insulted. “Is the pain triggering any flashback or…”

“No.” she cut him off, biting down on her bottom lip and throwing her head back on Haymitch’s shoulder. “I need it to stop. I need…”

“It’s almost time to push.” Mariana soothed her. “You’re almost there, Effie.”

“We didn’t even start.” Haymitch grumbled. “Who’s condescending now?”

“Manners.” Effie chided him.

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” she snapped. “Do _not_ be rude.”

It was probably a testimony to how well the doctor and the midwife had come to know them that they didn’t seem fazed by the bantering.

“Effie, you’re fully dilated.” Larcher cut in, after having checked. “I’m going to let the midwife take over now. I’m right here if anything happens, alright?”

“What do you think will happen?” Haymitch worried. “You said everything was normal. Everything is…”

He was cut off by Effie’s piercing scream – right into his ear.

“Alright, Effie.” Mariana hummed, taking her place between Effie’s legs. “I need you to push now. Slow little pushes to begin with. Can you do that for me? Nice and slow… Lean on Haymitch and breathe. You remember the exercises, right?”

Haymitch groaned when she crushed his hands. Effie was half crying, half panting, trying to follow the midwife’s instructions…

“It’s okay.” he murmured into her neck. “You’re doing good, sweetheart. You’re doing great.”

He let go of one of her hands to wipe her clammy brow with his sleeve. Tendrils of damp hair were curling around her face… She reached out for his hand and squeezed it again with every push. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted. It felt like hours but it couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes.

“Haymitch…” she whimpered at some point, briefly burying her face in his neck. “It hurts. It _hurts_.”

“I know… I know…” he coaxed. “I’m sorry. If I could…”

“Oh, would you _shut up_.” she hissed, going from needy to aggressive in one second flat.

“You’re doing very well, Effie.” Mariana praised. “I see the crown of his head.”

“Yeah?” Haymitch said, suddenly straining his neck to get a peek despite his best intentions. He couldn’t see anything though – probably for the best.

“Can I push?” Effie sobbed. “I need it to stop. I…”

“Take a very deep breath and then one big push. Can you do that, Effie?” Mariana asked. “When you’re ready. I know you’re tired. We’re almost there.”

“So now it’s _we_?” Haymitch snorted.

“Shut up, Haymitch.” Effie snarled.

“Labor makes you vulgar, Princess.” he teased half-heartedly.

“I hate you.” she growled, taking a deep breath. “I really, _really_ hate you.”

“You need to push now, Effie.” Larcher told her, coming to stand next to Mariana, blanket at the ready.

“I’m tired.” she whimpered.

Her fingers were becoming lax and Haymitch was supporting her whole weight now. He briefly nuzzled her neck. “Come on. A few more pushes and we get our son.” He pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Come on, sweetheart.”

She screamed when she pushed. She screamed like he had never heard her scream before.

“I see the head.” Mariana said. “One more push. As strong as you can. We need to get the shoulders out.”

The pain she must have been in… He couldn’t imagine it.

“I can’t…” she choked. “I…”

“Yeah, you _can_.” he told her. “You’re Effie _fucking_ Trinket. You can do _anything_.”

She panted for a while, trying to get her breath back.

“Abernathy.” she mumbled. “I am Effie _Abernathy_.”

Then she pushed again and whatever he was about to say died on his lips because, suddenly, Larcher had something wrapped in the blanket and it was _wailing_.

“Very good, Effie.” Mariana beamed. “You did it. Congratulations.”

Effie laughed and finally let go of his hands to outstretch her shaking arms in the direction of the bundle the doctor was holding.

Haymitch was stunned.

“I want my son.” she demanded when Larcher took too long handing him over. “Give him to me.”

There was fear in her voice, a primitive terror that her baby would be snatched away from her, and it made him growl. “Give us our son.”

Larcher was just examining him, he told himself, making sure he was alright… He had read about this. There was stuff to do right after birth: cleaning the eyes and airways… Aidan was screaming so he was alright. _Of course_ , he was alright.

The doctor and the midwife exchanged a quick glance he didn’t like.

“What’s wrong?” he snarled.

“There’s nothing wrong.” Larcher said after a small hesitation. He smiled when he came closer to hand the baby to Effie. Her arms wouldn’t hold steady so he forced Haymitch to wrap his around them. “ _She’_ s perfect. Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

“A daughter?” he repeated, completely flabbergasted.

Effie burst out in tears, retracing the tiny nose with the tip of her finger.

“I had doubts at the last ultrasound.” the doctor admitted. “But… I’m sorry, she must have had her hands between her legs every time. It happens.”

“Well, at least we know who she takes after…” he mumbled. He was lucky Effie was too taken with the baby to hear that comment. And when he finally lowered his eyes on her, he understood why.

“She is perfect.” Effie laughed through her tears. “She is…”

“Perfect.” he finished for her, smiling at the adorable baby covered in stuff he didn’t want to think about. She was opening and closing her tiny little pink mouth, fist waving a little in the air… “Fuck, she’s so _perfect_ …” Then she opened her eyes and he fell completely _utterly_ in love. “She has your eyes.” The bluest of blue. His sight blurred and he blinked, refusing to admit that if Effie was outright crying, he might have been fighting tears himself. “Hello, shrimp. _Hello_ …”

“We do not have a name.” Effie frowned, straining her neck to look at him. “We cannot call her Aidan, it is not a girl name.” Her eyes widened in sudden realization. “Haymitch, everything is embroidered with _Aidan_. This is a _disaster_ , we are not ready for a girl. _Oh_ , we should have thought of a contingency plan.”

“Yeah, well, next time, we’ll do that.” he snorted. “Stop worrying. I’m sure your mom will send enough stuff to last a year or two.” He brushed his fingers against the tiny fist, marveling when she opened her hand. “She’s so beautiful… She’s the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“She is.” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head.

“Haymitch would you like to cut the cord?” Larcher asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

“Oh, yeah.” he said, almost sorry to have to let go of his girls to do so.

It required some maneuvering and his legs had gotten numb but he managed to get out from behind Effie. He cut the cord where the doctor pointed out, unable to stop glancing at the baby wrapped in the soft blanket.

“Alright…” Larcher said after a shared look with the midwife. “How about Haymitch and I take this precious girl to the nursery to clean her up and find her some clothes while Mariana guides you through the rest of it and gets you settled, Effie?”

Effie jealously brought the baby closer to her chest, glaring at them. “She’s mine. You cannot take her away.”

“Nobody’s taking her away.” Haymitch frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed. Effie was tired, her eyes were a little clouded and he wasn’t sure she was entirely there now. “I’ll be with her the whole time.”

“They cannot take my baby.” she hissed. “She needs me.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not really making sense.” he rebuked gently. “Where are you?”

She took several deep breaths, staring straight into his eyes. He could almost see the clogs turning in her brain.

“Twelve.” she offered eventually. “With you. Safe.”

“Good girl.” he smirked. “Nobody’s taking the shrimp away. She just needs to get cleaned up a bit. You don’t want her to get cold, yeah?”

She blinked a little and looked down at the baby in her arms. “You will be with her?”

“She won’t leave my sight.” he promised, too fierce himself for something so casual.

“And you will bring her back immediately after you are done?” she begged.

“It will take twenty to thirty minutes.” Mariana softly cut in. “No more. Then we can get you back into bed and you can have your baby for as long as you want. We can even try feeding her. How does that sound?”

Effie’s eyes darted from the baby to him to Larcher and then to Mariana.

“I do not want to leave her.” she pleaded, clearly distressed. “I… She _needs_ me.”

“Yes, she does.” Larcher said firmly. “Which is why you need to let Mariana take care of you. The placenta needs to come out, we talked about this, Effie, don’t you remember? You daughter will be safe with us while you are being taken care of. Then, you can take care of her. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

Effie’s gaze searched his. “Haymitch?”

“I’ll take care of her.” he vowed slowly.

It took a long second before she nodded. “Alright.”

Larcher lost no time scooping the baby up. The shrimp started to cry and so did Effie. Watching her outstretching an arm after the doctor who had quickly left the room broke his heart. He wanted to stay and comfort her but he had made a promise and it was how it ought to be for now. Their child came first.

So, he followed Larcher to the nursery.

“She will be fine.” the doctor told him when he spotted his torn expression. “Labor is never easy. She’s emotional and in pain… It’s a natural reaction to want to keep her baby close.”

“She’s alright, yeah?” he worried. “Both of them?”

“Right as rain.” Larcher promised with a smile, heading straight for the bathroom. “Now, I’ll wash the baby, double check that everything’s fine… Do you have clothes ready?”

“Yeah.” he said and then made a face. “ _No_. If I bring her back with boy clothes I won’t hear the end of it.”

“Find something.” the doctor advised. “She’s safe with me.”

The shrimp didn’t seem safe with him when he was placing her in the sink to be washed. But Larcher was gentle and he trusted the man enough to quickly step back in the nursery and rummage through the drawers for something that wasn’t branded with a big _Aidan_ or that wasn’t too boyish. He settled for a green romper, striped white on the legs, with a cartoonish frog prince on the tummy.

“Here you go.” Larcher said, carefully placing her on the baby-changing table. “She’s all yours.”

Haymitch instinctively placed a hand on her stomach to make sure she wouldn’t roll over – not that she _could_ roll around yet but he was suddenly terrified of doing the wrong thing.

“You’re not gonna do it?” he panicked, nodding at the clothes he had just picked.

The doctor’s smile was indulgent. “She’s your daughter, Haymitch. You will be fine.” He reached into the side of the table and pulled out a diaper. “You might want to put this on first.”

Haymitch eyed the thing in Larcher’s hand with mistrust. It seemed so big and scratchy… And the shrimp’s skin was so soft…

“It’s gonna harm her.” he protested. “She’s brand new.”

“No, it won’t.” the man reassured him, obviously trying to hide his smile. “I’ll guide you through it if you want.”

Haymitch nodded his thanks. He did his best to follow the doctor’s instructions despite the shrimp’s wriggling. She wasn’t liking being constricted by a diaper or the romper, it seemed. But she was so perfect… So very, very perfect…

He didn’t really think when he bent down to place a soft kiss on her tummy – something he would have sworn he would never had done with an audience only a few hours earlier.

“You’re just as beautiful as your mom.” he told her, carefully brushing his fingers on the top of her head. She had a soft thin pale blond peach fuzz. “ _Fuck_ , I love you so much…”

The words were so easy to utter they almost took him aback.

He immediately tossed a guarded look toward Larcher but the man was tactfully checking his watch.

“You’ve got kids?” he asked, realizing that he had never asked before.

“Two.” the doctor smiled. “One is in Three training to be an engineer. The other’s still in high school” The man’s face hardened. “And he won’t ever have to be afraid of the Hunger Games. Thanks to you.” His eyes fell on the crying baby. “No child ever will again.”

Haymitch rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It wasn’t just me, you know.”

“From what I’ve heard, you were a key factor.” Larcher argued but then waved his hand. “Just… Thank you. You don’t know how it was to…”

“I do.” he shrugged. “I had a brother. Katniss and Peeta…” He shook his head and looked down at his daughter. The sight of her was enough to soothe the pain the memories always brought. She made him smile. “I _do_.”

Larcher cleared his throat, checking his watch again. “Why don’t you go introduce this lovely little lady to the rest of your family while I check on Effie?”

That implied carrying her.

“I’m not sure I can…” he winced. “Look, my hands…”

“You won’t drop your daughter, Haymitch.” the doctor promised. “The tremors are intermittent now. And they’re not strong enough to put her at risk. Trust me. You will be fine. I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”

Larcher left the nursery, giving him no choice but to step up. The shrimp was crying and he couldn’t leave her like that… He _couldn’t_ … He picked her up as gently as he could, making sure her head was supported because the books all stressed how fragile newborns were. He carefully propped her against his shoulder, breathing her smell in.

“Hush little baby, don’t you cry…” he hummed. “Papa’s gonna sing you a lullaby…” She stopped crying almost immediately. He didn’t know if she recognized the singing or if she had just been afraid of this big world she had been thrown in and needed a comforting presence. “That’s right, sweetheart… I’m your Papa. You know what that means?” He pressed a kiss on her head. “It means I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna protect you. It means I’m never gonna leave you. It means I’m gonna love you _always_.”

How mushy she had made him already…

Yet he couldn’t quite be ashamed of himself.

He made sure she was secured in the crook of his elbow when he started the long walk downstairs – the stairs were tricky and he was very slow, too afraid to slip and break the baby’s neck. The kids were pacing in the living-room and they both rushed closer when they spotted him.

“How is Effie?” Katniss asked just as Peeta asked after the baby.

“Oh, he’s precious…” the boy said, beaming at the bright blue eyes that were staring back at him.

“He’s a she.” Haymitch snorted. “Surprise.”

“A girl?” Katniss ventured a hand closer to the baby and he had to fight not to step back, not to go all overprotective over his child. She was gentle when she rubbed a finger against the frog on the baby’s tummy though. “Does she have a name yet?”

He shook his head. “We never talked girl names.”

“That will be fun.” Peeta teased. “Can I hold her?”

“Not now.” Haymitch took a step back and then winced at the boy’s hurt face. “No offense, kid. Effie barely got her turn.”

Snowball was furiously sniffing the leg of his pants. He was whining in obvious excitement, his tail wriggling left and right, sometimes hitting the floor hard.

Haymitch crouched, a bit wary when he brought the baby closer to the puppy. He was certain Effie would have had a lot to say about unsanitary dogs, germs and such. And he wasn’t sure how the Samoyed would react.

Snowball sniffed her all over and then barked in pleasure, gently nudging her foot. The baby wriggled, letting out a sharp annoyed cry.

Haymitch stood up quickly, rocking her a little before she could start crying.

“Do you want us to phone Effie’s family?” Peeta asked, not taking his eyes away from the baby. “I’m sure they would like news.”

“Sure, thanks.” he approved. “Be sure to tell her mother it’s a girl though. She’s probably gonna send a whole new wardrobe over, that will spare Effie some freaking out.”

The kids laughed and so did he, even if it wasn’t _that_ funny. Nerves and exhaustion had never been a good mix, he figured.

Still, he wasn’t exactly ready for the children to say they were heading home. It _was_ close to three a.m. but… He doubted the doctor and the midwife would stay long and then… Then _what_? They would be left alone with the baby?

_Forever_?

He had a quiet freak out when he walked the kids back to the door and an even stronger one when he managed to climb up the stairs to find out Larcher was leaving with a promise to come back first thing in the morning to check on his patients.

Effie looked a bit better when he walked back in the bedroom. Bone-deep exhausted, yes, but certainly more coherent and lucid. The plastic sheets were gone too, the mess had been cleaned and she was wearing a fresh nightgown. She immediately outstretched her arms.

Haymitch obediently passed her the child, making sure their daughter was safely encased in her embrace before letting go. It was odd how quickly he had grown used to the small weight in the crook of his elbow. Now that he wasn’t carrying her, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

He sat on the edge of the bed and watched the two of them, feeling so happy he could have burst.

“I’m not sure she’s hungry yet but we can try feeding her if you’d like?” Mariana suggested, coming back from the bathroom.

“Have you ever seen a more perfect baby?” Effie hummed, adoringly gazing in the shrimp’s eyes.

The midwife simply smiled.

Haymitch figured all new parents were like that with their child but it was different for them. She really _was_ the most beautiful baby.

“Hello, sweetie…” Effie went on cooing at the baby. “Hello… I love you so much…” She looked up at him and cupped his cheek, drawing him in for a short kiss. “I love you too.”

“Not what you were saying an hour ago.” he snorted and then he glanced at the clock. “Hey, look… It’s gonna be her birthday in seventeen minutes… She’s gonna be an hour old.”

Effie and the midwife laughed but he was being perfectly serious. He let Mariana help Effie with her gown, watching with rapt attention as the baby tried and failed to latch on her nipple. She eventually managed to suck on it and it was half fascinating and half disgusting. He couldn’t quite decide.

Effie fell asleep before the baby was done. It worried Haymitch a little but the midwife insisted it was normal after the ordeal her body had been through. She waited until their daughter was done and then handed him the baby back.

“You might want to put her in her crib soon.” Mariana whispered, not to disturb Effie, on her way out. “And do try to get some sleep too. You will need it.”

Getting any sleep wasn’t on the cards, he decided that at once.

Neither was placing down the baby.

He didn’t want her to be all alone. He watched Effie sleep, holding their daughter close to his chest – against his skin because the books said it was better.

“Happy birthday, shrimp.” he whispered every time an hour went past.

All the moments were precious, he knew that only too well.

And he was determined to enjoy them all.


	34. Four Hours

“See ? It’s called rain.” Haymitch’s voice drifted to her, lulling her out of her slumber. His tone was so soft, so gentle… Effie smiled before she even opened her eyes. “It’s water. You like water? Yeah?” he chuckled. “Rain comes and go, you know? Look, it stopped already. You know how we call that? April showers. Surprise rain. A bit like you, sweetheart…”

Effie listened to that little speech, puzzled. She wasn’t sure who he was talking to or why she was hurting so much. For a moment, her mind was blank and she flashed back to the hospital and ghostlike pain of whips and fists and… She opened her eyes, her breath catching in her throat, only to relax when she recognized the familiar landmarks of their bedroom. The lights were still on and it helped her ground herself, there was no darkness to cloud her judgment.

She automatically put a hand on her stomach and…

She was _empty_.

Her baby was…

“Hey, look… Mama’s awake…” Haymitch murmured in that odd tender voice. He was standing next to the window.

She looked at him and she couldn’t help the relief when she spotted the baby safely cradled in his arms. She forgot any lingering fear. She had room for only one thing in her head and it was the precious child he was holding.   

“Are we going with Mama and Papa?” she asked, outstretching her arms.

“We’re going with whatever you want.” he shrugged. “But no Mother or Father _bullshit_.”

“Language.” she hissed, wriggling her fingers because he was taking too long complying with her request. “Give me my baby.” He was very careful when he crossed the distance from the window to the bed, cautious of the child in his arms, and he was even more so when he placed the baby on her chest. She immediately breathed her in, amazed by the little noises she was making. “Hello, sweetie… Hello…” She grinned so hard it hurt. “I am your Mama. Yes, I am…” It was difficult to convince herself to stop staring at her daughter to look up at Haymitch. “How long was I asleep? Did she need anything? Did I miss something?”

“Not long.” he dismissed, clearly amused by her behavior. “She didn’t even fuss once. And no. She slept for a while, that’s it.”

She was fussing _now_ , waving her arms, crying out a little… Effie instinctively lowered her nightgown and awkwardly got her into the right position. Once she was feeding, the baby seemed happier. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable feeling but it wasn’t awful either. She was hurting too much overall to be sensitive to that.

Haymitch was making a face and she rolled her eyes.

“You should get used to it.” she warned.

He wrinkled his nose and settled more comfortably next to them, toeing off his shoes and slipping his legs under the covers. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against his chest, watching their daughter and fighting an urge to cry for no real good reason. Or maybe they were _too_ many good reasons.

“I am so tired…” she whispered.

“I bet.” he snorted. “You should sleep some more when she’s done… It’s not even six yet… I don’t think the kids will invade us until dawn.”

“Did you introduce them?” she asked, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

“Briefly.” he said. “Hard to, she doesn’t have a name yet.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “We have to settle that, sweetheart… I need to go to the Justice Building to declare her birth… She needs a name.”

He was right, of course, and not just because of legal matters.

“I cannot believe we never talked about girl names.” she sighed. “We should have planned for all possibilities.” She shot him a wary glance suddenly. “Are you disappointed she’s not a boy?”

“You’re kidding?” he scoffed. “She’s _perfect_.”

“She _is_.” she answered smugly. She was a bit jealous that Haymitch had gotten to spend more time with her than she had. “It needs to start with an A though. Everything that isn’t embroidered with _Aidan_ is marked with an _A.A_. I hate to see that work go to waste. We will have to buy her more clothes but the handkerchiefs and bibs can be salvaged. It is a good thing we went for neutral colors with the nursery, I guess.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers distractedly drumming on her arm. He must have been tired too, she figured, he had been up longer than she had. And the whole baby thing was a bit overwhelming.

Their daughter seemed done feeding so she quickly covered herself and then frowned. “Aren’t we supposed to make her burp?”

“Just don’t make her throw up.” he advised. It was obvious to her he was fighting to keep his eyes open and so she struggled to do the right thing with the baby by herself. Eventually laying her down carefully on her lap when she was satisfied she wouldn’t die out of negligence. “The midwife said we should put her in her crib.”

“No.” she immediately refused. “It is far too soon. She stays with me.”

“Could roll the crib in here.” he mumbled. “That’s why we got one with wheels in the first place. We can all get some sleep…”

“No.” she growled. “I will stay awake with her. You sleep.”

“What if you fall asleep and we crush her?” he asked, rubbing the cartoonish frog on the baby’s tummy.

He had a point.

“Perhaps we should never sleep again.” she suggested, only half-joking. “Perhaps we should spend the rest of our lives watching this little masterpiece.”

She gently wrapped her hands around the small feet that were dancing in the air.

“Sounds like a plan.” he chuckled. He softly retraced the baby’s features with his finger. “She’s so tiny, sweetheart…”

“She’s ours.” she whispered, almost in awe. “We _made_ her.”

He laughed a little. “We make really beautiful kids.”

“We _do_.” she laughed with him, turning her head to peck his lips. He deepened the kiss a little but not too much and not too long. Not that their daughter cared, she had fallen asleep, apparently content to be on her mother’s lap. “I love her so much I feel I will burst at the seams…”

“Same.” he confessed. “It’s a bit scary.”

“Yes.” she confirmed. “But in a good way.”

“Yeah.” He rested his head against hers and, for a while, they did nothing more than study their baby, still shocked and unable to believe she was theirs. “Maybe we should just call her shrimp.”

“I won’t even answer that.” she scowled.

“You’re no fun.” he complained but she thought he was joking. “I really want to see your mother’s face when I tell her we’re calling her Shrimpy.”

“Leave my mother out of it or she will suggest an awful name like Agrippa.” She brushed her fingers through the thin hair covering her baby’s head. She couldn’t stop herself from touching her, making sure she was _real_. “She is far too pretty to be called Agrippa.”

“You really want an A.” he mocked.

“I really want an A.” she answered, absolutely serious.

They remained silent for a moment.

“April.” Haymitch said eventually.

“April.” she repeated, testing it out. “She almost missed it. A few more hours and she would have been born in May.”

“The storm brought her.” he shrugged. “I mean… April showers and stuff, you know? So… _April_.”

April went hand in hand with spring and… It was what she was in a way. A new spring in their lives.

“April.” she whispered. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” He sounded surprised, probably having expected her to reject everything for a few hours yet. Well… Sometimes the first one was the right one.

“It suits her.” she says. “ _April Abernathy_. It is a good name.”

“You think we…” he hesitated. “Can we have Iris as a middle name?”

“Oh, darling, _of_ _course_.” she whispered, reaching behind her to place her hand on his cheek. She let it trail to his neck and coiled it around his nape. “April Iris Abernathy. The prettiest baby in the world.”

“Well, she’s got the prettiest mother, so…” he teased. He didn’t want to talk about the Iris thing, she figured. He didn’t want to cloud this moment with memories of his mother because it would make it sad. And it wasn’t supposed to be sad.

“Flatterer.” she chuckled.

“Always got me places with you.” he retorted, pressing a kiss against her inner wrist. “I’ll go get the crib, yeah? We should really grab a few hours of sleep… Larcher’s gonna be back soon… And the kids too…”

“I think it is a safe thing to bet my family will pay us a visit in the next few weeks.” she warned but when he extricated himself from under her, she pouted. “I wish we could keep her to ourselves. They will all want to hold her and play with her and…”

_She’s mine_ , she didn’t quite say.

He heard it anyway.

“We’ll make it clear visits should be short.” he promised. “But they’re her family, we can’t keep them away. Jo and Annie are gonna show up too eventually.”

“I know.” she sighed before flashing him her best kicked puppy look. “Are you sure we need to put her in her crib? Look how adorable she is…”

“Sweetheart, we can’t keep her in bed with us.” he insisted. “It ain’t safe.”

She supposed he wasn’t _just_ concerned about them accidentally crushing her. He didn’t want risking having a night terror with their daughter in close range. And what went for him, went for her.

“Fine.” she relented. She watched him go and then looked back at the sleeping baby. “You have the best papa in the world, April, you need to know that.” She whispered the words, hoping the girl would hear them even in her dreams. “He thinks he won’t do a good job but he is such a natural at this… I won’t compare but I will try to be a good mother to you, the best I can be. I promise. I _love_ you.”

She kissed her little feet and her little hands.

That was how Haymitch found her when he came back, pushing the crib in front of him.

“Okay, so… Don’t start screaming.” he warned. “But… someone really wants to see you.” He clucked his tongue and Snowball darted from behind him, sneaking between his legs to make a beeline for the bed. He jumped on it with obvious excitement but immediately calmed down when he spotted the baby. It was as if he knew he needed to be careful around her. “Found him lying there in the corridor, looking all miserable.” Haymitch shrugged as the puppy crawled closer to Effie.

She wasn’t exactly in favor of letting the dog so close to a newborn baby but it was hard to be firm when Snowball looked so happy to see her. And April.

He was so gentle when he sniffed the little romper clad foot…

And he didn’t do anything more than snuggle close to Effie’s side, resting his head on her hip to better nudge the little foot. It was obvious he wanted to cuddle the girl but knew he needed to be delicate.

“Do you like your new friend, my pretty baby?” she grinned, scratching Snowball’s head.

“He heard you scream earlier.” Haymitch explained, carefully – and a bit awkwardly – scooping April up from her lap. “The kids had trouble keeping him calm.”

“Were you worried about me?” she hummed, sliding down the bed and wrapping her arms around him. Snowball looked happy about the attention. He bumped her head with his. She humored him a few minutes longer and then turned to look at what Haymitch was doing.

He didn’t seem to _know_ what he was doing.

He was standing there next to the crib – where he had placed the cat ragdoll, she couldn’t help but notice – a woolen blanket in his hand. He looked up at her, completely lost. “It’s not that cold… Do I cover her? She can’t be cold but she can’t be too warm either, yeah? That’s not good. How do we know?”

It _was_ a conundrum.

Effie didn’t know. And she was certain she _should_ have known.

In the end, Haymitch checked one of their books because they couldn’t _decide_. And it was a good thing because at the first mention of covers and pillows _maybe_ resulting in sudden infant death syndrome in the first few weeks, they both blanched. The blanket was tossed aside and they both stayed there, shocked still at what they had almost done.

April was fine though.

Yet Haymitch still stood there for several more minutes, _hovering_ over the crib with uncertainty. Effie really wanted to tell him it would be alright but she didn’t know. She grabbed the edge of the crib and pulled it as close to her side of the bed as it would go.

“I think she is alright.” she whispered eventually.

April _looked_ alright, clearly unperturbed by her parents’ fretting. She was asleep, her chest rising regularly…

It took a few more minutes before Haymitch climbed in bed with her, chasing Snowball to the foot of the bed, never quite taking his eyes off the crib. He didn’t make any attempt at switching off the lights and she didn’t ask him to. She didn’t even tell him off for not getting out of his clothes and into some proper sleepwear.

“I am scared to close my eyes.” she admitted. “I am scared she won’t be here anymore when I wake up.”

The wooden bars were barely wide enough for her to slip half her hand through. Her fingers reached nothing more than April’s tiny hand.

“I get it.” he offered. “ _Fuck_ , I feel the same but… We won’t last long if we don’t get some sleep.”

“You really _need_ to watch your language.” she rebuked. “I won’t have my daughter swearing like a sailor.”

“Lost cause.” he mocked.

They kept on watching the baby sleep… Effie wasn’t sure when she drifted off again but she was so exhausted it was hard to resist closing her eyes after a while.

She had never expected to wake up to growling though. _Growling and baby noises_. 

She sat up, groaning in pain at how sore she was, her eyes immediately searching the room. April was wriggling, Snowball was standing protectively in front of the crib, fur all ruffled, crouched low as if ready to attack, snarling…

“Good dog. You know me. Be a good dog and…” Doctor Larcher was trying to appease the puppy, both hands lifted in front of him.

“What is going on?” Effie frowned. “Snowball, _down_.” Snowball growled a moment longer, then looked at Effie who lifted her eyebrows in warning. “Down.” she repeated. The puppy gave a small whine and then hopped back on the bed to curl up at her feet, staring very hard at the doctor. Once sure there would be no incident, she turned to Larcher. “Doctor?”

“Katniss and Peeta let me in.” the man explained. “I am sorry for intruding but I have other patients to see and…”

“Oh, naturally. They did well.” she dismissed, glancing at her side to find Haymitch deep asleep on his back, a hand on his stomach and the other tossed behind his head, snoring _loud_. “My apologies, we did not intent to sleep so late.”

“No apologies needed. You are right to rest.” Larcher countered. “You _did_ give birth a few hours ago.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with his sleeve absentmindedly. “Which is why I would have been happier for the dog to remain downstairs for a few more days…”

Snowball let out a short warning growl.

“Bad puppy.” Effie immediately chided. “What is up with you today?”

He had never minded the doctor before… 

“My fault, I believe.” Larcher chuckled. “The baby was fussing and since I need to examine her… I reached inside the crib. The dog took offense.” She couldn’t quite blame Snowball for that. She wanted to lift April up but she couldn’t help a wince when she tried to sit up properly and the doctor immediately stepped in. “Let me. You _really_ have to take it easy for a day or two, Effie. I’m _serious_ about this. Your body needs to rest.”

April had a really sweet temper. She fretted but she suffered Larcher’s examination for several minutes before she started crying. Effie immediately snatched the baby back, protectively cradling her against her chest. Haymitch woke up with a start, his right hand feeling around for his knife in a never lost reflex.

He looked completely confused at finding the doctor there, at the dog growling again – having perceived Effie’s reaction as a response to a threat – and at the small human being she was holding close. It took him a moment to remember.

“Everything’s alright?” he mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“You daughter needs to be changed.” the doctor said, sounding nonplussed by her awful behavior. “And Effie is feeling very territorial. So is your dog.”

He blinked and then shrugged. “All good then.” A big smile stretched his lips and he placed a hand at April’s back. “Hello, you. Why are you crying so loud? Got your mama’s lungs, no doubt about that…”

“I am sorry.” Effie winced. “April started crying and…” She shook her head. “It was very rude, Doctor Larcher, I apologize.”

“No worries.” the doctor dismissed with a small smile. “I see this little lady has a name now? Haymitch, perhaps you could take care of April while I check on Effie?”

“Sure.” Haymitch smirked, obviously happy to spend some time with her. “You want some breakfast?”

She suddenly realized she was _starving_. “It appears the children are downstairs. Maybe you could send them up?”

It didn’t take long for Larcher to examine her but she was frantic by the time he was ready to leave the room and she begged him to send Haymitch back with the baby. She wasn’t quite ready for her bedroom to be invaded by two young people – one of whom was carrying a tray – and an excited dog. Haymitch came in last, April protectively cradled in his arms. And, honestly, that was all she cared about.

She forced herself to smile at Peeta and answered Katniss’ question about how she was feeling, anxious to get her baby close by again. Her heartbeat only came back to normal once Haymitch sat next to her on the bed.

“Can I hold her?” Peeta asked with a bright grin.

“No.” Effie snapped before Haymitch could do something foolish like hand her over. She immediately snatch the baby from his arms and held her close, barely noticing the grey and blue romper he had dressed her in. April’s eyes were wide open, staring at her, and she felt herself breathe more easily.

Everybody in the room froze. The boy looked hurt. The children exchanged a glance and Haymitch cleared his throat.

“Sorry, kids, we’re still kinda coming to terms with… _Everything_. You know.” he lied smoothly. “Effie needs her rest…”

“We’ll be back later.” Katniss said, grabbing Peeta’s arm and pulling him toward the door. It sounded more like a warning than a statement.

“Sure.” Haymitch nodded.

“We can walk the dog if you want…” the boy offered, hesitant. His blue eyes darted from Effie to the baby and then to the puppy who was still hovering near the bed.

“I’ve got to go to the Justice Building anyway…” Haymitch dismissed. “I’ll take him.”

“Actually, I want to keep Snowball with me while you are gone.” she cut in. “If you _could_ walk him, dear…”

She wouldn’t make the mistake of being left alone vulnerable again. Not when April needed to be protected.

“Of course. No problem, Effie.” Peeta beamed.

The dog seemed as reluctant to leave April as she was. It took some coaxing before the children managed to get him to follow them.

Once she was alone with Haymitch, silence stretched. April was fussing and she automatically brought her to her breast in case she was hungry. She grabbed a toast from the tray with her free hand and nibbled on it quickly, so hungry she thought she could have eaten twice what they had brought.

“Is this gonna be a problem?” he asked slowly, after a couple of minutes.

He brushed his fingers against the top of April’s head and she had to suppress the urge to protectively curl up around her daughter.

A part of her, a part she knew to be irrational, wanted to oppose things like ‘ _what if Peeta has an episode while he’s holding her?’_   or _‘what if Doctor Larcher hurts her? He is not family and we cannot trust people who are not family.’._ She knew better. Those were excuses. Because that part of her also wanted to remind him that his hands sometimes shook and that he couldn’t control it and _what if_ …

The rational part, though… The rational part _knew_ she was as likely to have a flashback or a panic attack as Haymitch was to drop their daughter because his hands were shaking. She _knew_ that April was reasonably safe with the two of them, with the children and with Larcher.

Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from clutching the baby to her chest.

She supposed it answered his question.


	35. 14 Hours

On a certain level, Haymitch understood.

Going to the Justice Building and back had been torture despite the moment of uncontainable _pride_ when he had signed the papers and had been handed April’s birth certificate. It had taken a long time for the woman behind the desk to print it and he had been anxious to go back home, to make sure his girls were alright…

Having April out of his sight for so long… Yeah, it was a source of anxiety and he _got_ it, Effie was nervous about being parted from the baby. But…

A cup of coffee was placed in front of him on the kitchen table.

“It’s okay.” Peeta said quietly, sitting down on the chair next to him. “I understand.”

“Good for you ‘cause I don’t.” Haymitch scoffed.

When he had come back, the children had been in the bedroom with Effie and April and everything had seemed to be going well. Effie was relaxed, the baby was asleep in her arms… They had been having a nice moment, Haymitch thought, quiet conversations and a few jokes… The moment Katniss had leaned in a bit too close to settle the debate of whose nose the baby had, Effie had started freaking out, recoiling away from the girl as if in fright, her eyes a bit on the glassy side. It had woken April up and she had started wailing.

She hadn’t stopped since.

They had tried changing her, they had tried feeding her… Eating had seemed to calm her down for a while but she didn’t feed for long and it didn’t seem to sate her. She settled for about half an hour every time and then started crying again.

Effie kept repeating she was hungry as if she had a superpower but he hadn’t missed the wincing becoming more and more pronounced as the hours grew late. And the more agitated April became, the less comfortable Effie was with having people around. So far, she only kept the baby away from the children – and if Katniss was impassible about it, Peeta had looked hurt every time – but… He had tried to take her out of Effie’s arm – so she could get some proper rest – and Effie had moved back, as if to put April out of reach.

She had immediately looked at him with a horrified expression and had profusely apologized but it had been too late.

Haymitch had walked out of the bedroom in a daze. And he couldn’t claim he wasn’t grateful for the kids having decided they would camp in his kitchen.

He glanced at the clock, trying to figure out how long it would be until Larcher showed up again.

“I think…” the boy hesitated. “I’m not sure she’s very aware of what she’s doing at the moment.”

Haymitch glanced at the kid, alarmed. Had he missed anything? Because he knew Effie’s symptoms like the back of his hand. If she was about to have a panic attack, he usually knew before it happened. If she was having a flashback or if something had triggered her, he figured it out early on. And right then…

“She’s lucid.” he frowned.

“She must be in some pain.” Peeta replied in a hurried whisper because they heard Katniss coming back from the living-room.

And pain was one of Effie’s triggers.

He had asked her if she was doing alright and she had said yes… He didn’t think she was in enough pain right now for her memories to be triggered but she _had_ faltered right after the birth… Maybe the boy was right. Maybe it would pass and he was worrying over nothing.

Still, he propped a hand on the table to stand up, swallowing the cup of coffee in two big gulps. He didn’t want to leave her alone with the baby too long. All the more so given that April’s cries were echoing around the house.

Snowball darted between his legs as he reached the first floor but almost run him down on the way back well before he even reached the bedroom. He stepped inside in time to see the dog jump on the bed and drop his purple monkey next to Effie, nudging it in the direction of the wailing baby in her arms with his nose.

Effie was silently crying and she looked up at Haymitch with so much distress he cursed himself for sulking so long downstairs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately striding to the bed.

It was plain to see what was wrong. She was shaking a little and he was ready to bet she was exhausted. He didn’t really give her a choice when he scooped the shrimp up. She didn’t protest and he pretended he wasn’t relieved by that. He rocked April gently if a bit awkwardly still, not quite sure what to do. He sniffed her but she didn’t look like she needed to be changed.

“I think she is hungry.” Effie whispered. “But…” Her sentence ended in a sob and she squeeezed her breasts in her hands. “I cannot… I do not think I am working as I should, Haymitch. I do not think she has her full. And it _hurts_.”

He took that in stride, torn between his need to comfort her and his new instinct not to let go of his crying baby.

“Okay.” he said calmly. “Larcher will be by soon so… There’s no need to get worked up for now, alright, sweetheart?”

She was still crying but she nodded and he wondered how exhausted she really was under the brave attitude. She opened her arms. “Can I have her back?”

He had barely been holding her for two minutes.

He compromised by sitting next to her on the bed, pushing the purple monkey damp with drool off the sheets. Snowball didn’t look very happy about that.

“It’s nice of you but that’s not what she needs.” he snorted. The puppy gave a sharp yelp of rebuke and jumped off to drag his monkey to the corner of the room. “Now, sweetheart…” he chided his daughter in a soft voice. “Stop crying, you’re upsetting your mama.”

It wasn’t a magic spell and the baby kept on crying. Effie leaned against his side and buried her face in his shoulder, not even trying to stop her sobbing.

It was a _great_ situation to be in.

He wrapped an arm around Effie, bringing her closer to his chest, next to April. She nestled against him, wrapping her hand around the tiny foot that was unhappily kicking the air.

“ _Hush, little baby don’t you cry_ …” he hummed. “ _Papa’s gonna sing you a lullaby. Hush, little baby don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird_ …” He kept on singing softly, probably very off key, but it seemed to calm both of them down. Effie was fast asleep by the second time he sang the lullaby, April wasn’t sleeping but she had calmed down enough that he carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Not having the best first day, right, my little shrimp?”

There was a knock on the door. April started wailing again, Effie startled awake and Haymitch glared a little at the doctor who kept interrupting everyone’s rest.

“Sorry.” the man winced.

“Not at all.” Effie immediately countered, waving him in. “We have a problem.”

Haymitch sat there and listened as she explained herself, grateful for Larcher’s calm and attentive demeanor.

“I think you are jumping to conclusions, Effie.” the doctor told her gently once she was done. “It’s been less than a day, it’s impossible to tell for now. You are exhausted and you need rest.”

“My daughter needs me.” she growled, placing a protective hand on the baby Haymitch was still holding. From the corner of the room, Snowball growled in echo, clearly picking up on Effie’s behavior.

“Down.” he snapped at the dog – mainly because he couldn’t snap at Effie that way. “You need to calm down too, Effie. Look what you’re doing to Snowball, maybe you’re doing the same to her. You’re a ball of nerves.”

“Are you saying my presence is upsetting our child?” she hissed.  

“I’m saying take a nap and maybe you’ll think more clearly.” he retorted.

They glared at each other until Larcher cleared his throat.

“I would like to examine Effie now.” he said. “And I will take a look at the baby after that.”

“Okay.” Haymitch agreed at once, almost relieved to get out of bed, April protectively cradled against his shoulder.

“Be careful of her head.” Effie warned.

“Yeah, _thanks_ , I’ve been doing it all night and I managed just fine.” he spat. “Or what? I’m not allowed to carry her now?”

A flash of anger passed on her face but then she remembered how she had recoiled earlier and she winced. “I am sorry.”

She sounded sincere enough that he sighed. Everyone’s nerves were frayed. It took some effort but he forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s fine.”

He carried April to her nursery. She hadn’t had many chances to be in the room yet aside from when she had needed a change. He liked what they had done with the place. It was peaceful. He came to stand at the window, grabbing a soft stuffed elephant from a shelf and teasing her with it.

She was too little to know what to do naturally but she still stopped crying eventually, after he had playfully nudged her with the elephant enough times, making ridiculous noises that probably didn’t sound at all like an actual elephant.

“Mama’s just a little tired.” he told her seriously, watching as her tiny hand closed on the elephant’s trunk. She didn’t have enough strength to do much more but it still made him smile. He put the stuffed toy aside and brushed her little palm with his index, smiling wider when her fingers closed around it. “It’s gonna be better than this, you’ll see.” The soft padding of paws alerted him and he looked down to find Snowball sitting at his feet, looking up at them. “Seems like you’ve got yourself a guardian, shrimp.”

He loved the little noises she made.

He was in awe of her.

He had spent half the night watching her, committing her features to memory, but he didn’t think he would ever get tired of looking at her. She was _so_ beautiful, _so_ perfect…

“Haymitch?” Larcher called from the threshold.

“How’s she?” he asked quietly, not to disturb the baby.

“Asleep.” the doctor said. “Her body needs the rest. Physically, she should be recovered in a day or two.”  

“Physically.” he repeated flatly, dropping his eyes to their daughter.

“I find her… _unsettled_.” the man tactfully answered. “But given what she went through in the past… Her behavior isn’t that surprising.”

“She won’t let anyone touch the kid.” he scowled. “Not sure she even wants _me_ to…”

“Please, understand it’s not an indication of her feelings…” Larcher cut him off. “New mothers are often overprotective and Effie…”

“I know.” he sighed, keeping his gaze on April. Effie had been through too much. He had too. He _really_ got it. But it was still… “I’m not exactly jumping at the idea of letting anyone hold her either.”

The thought was disturbing. But the kids were the kids and he didn’t see the wrong in letting Peeta carry her for a minute. The boy hadn’t had an episode in months and he had been so eager about welcoming the baby… The kids were family and he might have been paranoid but not to the point of forgetting that if there was anyone he could trust with his life – and his daughter’s life – it was the rest of his family. 

“I honestly believe it will fade.” the doctor offered. “In a few days, she will feel less… _raw_.”

He wasn’t sure about that but he nodded all the same. “And about the other thing? The breastfeeding? That’s in her head or…?” 

Larcher pursed his lips in thought and asked if he could take a look at the baby. Haymitch shuffled his weight from one foot to the other before settling her down on the changing table, protectively hovering behind the doctor’s shoulder as he examined her. There was a matter of pot and kettle to be pointed out there, he figured, but the man was nice enough not to say anything.

He asked how many times April had fed and how many times Haymitch had changed her, he weighed and measured her…

“It’s hard to tell for now, we will know for sure in a few days.” the doctor eventually concluded. “Effie’s lactation does seem to be a little difficult.” Haymitch _tried_ not to make a face at that word but Larcher didn’t notice, his full attention on April. “I’m hoping that it will improve but with her medical history… She was underweight at the beginning of her pregnancy and she still doesn’t quite eat as much as I would like.”

“She put on some weight.” he countered. “You said she was doing better.”

“She _is_.” the doctor granted. “But it’s hard to counteract years of deficiencies – I have a feeling she wasn’t exactly eating properly before either.”

“She was always on some _shitty_ diet.” he admitted, quickly growing defensive. “She never made herself throw up or some _shit_ like that, though. She did sports and stuff… She was slim not skinny. She’s always been healthy.”

“But she was an escort, and a model before that if I am not mistaken, and that required her to watch her figure.” Larcher pointed out. “I am not _judging_ her, Haymitch, I’m simply stating facts.”

“Yeah.” Haymitch grumbled, making sure April’s romper was correctly buttoned before lifting her up. Having her in his arms soothed his annoyance. “So what does it mean? For April? She’s hungry?”

Because that couldn’t happen.

No child of his would be left to starve.

No child of his would _ever_ be _hungry_.

“For now, I don’t think so.” the doctor answered. “You weren’t wrong earlier. Babies pick up on tension and Effie was really close to having a nervous breakdown… She worked herself up over the breastfeeding.”

“Okay.” he said, relieved. “So, April’s good?”

“We will monitor her.” Larcher said. “Weight her and measure her every day. We need to make sure she has enough. If it turns out Effie doesn’t lactate enough to sustain her we will think about adding formula bottles but that comes with its own set of problems and I’d like it better if we could stick to the breastfeeding.”

“What kind of problems?” he asked. He needed to know _all_ the options. He needed to make sure they took the best decisions for the baby because…

“Nothing too serious for April.” the doctor sighed. “But for Effie… Most women who don’t produce enough milk blame themselves for it, they feel like they’re failing their child.”

“Capitols don’t breastfeed.” he opposed, not quite sure why. “Maybe she won’t mind.”

But that was a long shot and he knew she _would_. She wanted the full experience. She didn’t want to do anything like her mother had done.

Larcher didn’t look any more convinced than he was. “We will cross that bridge when and _if_ we come to it. Try not to worry about it. You have a very healthy little girl.”

Not worrying about it was asking him a little too much but he nodded gratefully at the doctor and walked him back to the front door – escorted all the way by a dog who took his guarding duty a little too seriously.

The kids were still in the kitchen, making some sort of soup.

“We thought you might be hungry.” Katniss shrugged, her eyes trailing to the baby in his arms. “How’s Effie?”

There was real worry there and he instinctively schooled his features into detachment. “She’ll be fine, sweetheart. She just needs some rest.” April had fallen asleep sometimes between leaving the nursery and reaching the front door. He awkwardly gestured to the boy. “Care to take her off my hands for a minute?”

Peeta jumped at the chance and suffered Haymitch’s fussing with good humor. It was only once he was certain the boy was supporting her head the right way that he let go of his daughter. It didn’t stop him from hovering for a moment, suddenly feeling a terrifying urge to snatch his child back. Peeta didn’t seem to mind though, he rocked the baby gently, looking half in love with her as it was.

Haymitch hadn’t been expecting the flash and he blinked, startled.

Katniss grinned a shitty grin, shrugging her innocence as she put the camera down. He scowled at her but she shrugged again. He felt as if more pictures had been taken in the last hours than in his whole life – Effie’s orders, apparently, April’s first few days had to be documented.

Once certain the baby wouldn’t wake up and wasn’t in immediate danger of being dropped – Peeta was _far_ too careful for that but Haymitch still insisted he had to sit down – he snatched a bowl of soup and swallowed it down, his eyes never straying from the boy and his daughter. Snowball had dropped at the kid’s feet and Katniss eventually peered over Peeta’s shoulder, slowly spooning her own soup.

“She’s cute.” the girl offered.

“She’s _beautiful_.” Haymitch scoffed haughtily. The kids exchanged an amused look. “Oh, _fuck_ _off_.”

The ringing of the phone covered their laughter but it also had the unfortunate effect of waking April up. Clearly, she didn’t like loud noises.

“ _Shit_.” he spat just as he picked up, about to tell Peeta to hand her over.

“That _is certainly_ not _the proper way to answer the phone, Haymitch.”_ a cold disapproving voice declared and he made a face.

“Elindra.” he winced, looking at the kids for help. There was none to be found. Katniss was scowling in distaste at the very mention of the name. There was a pointed cough at the other end of the line and he rolled his eyes, wondering if the woman was his cosmic punishment for everything he had done wrong in his life. “Mother.” he amended through clenched teeth.

_“Is that my granddaughter I hear crying?”_ she asked. “ _Why is she crying? How is she? What does she look like? Peeta’s description was brief and imprecise – very surprising for an artist – I require more details. Would you be a dear and send pictures? Oh, by the way, I sent a package this morning, it should be delivered in the next couple of days. It should keep you afloat until you can procure more girl clothes.”_

He wondered if April was going to inherit that gift for talking without pauses.

He imagined her at three, a blond chatterbox with bright blue eyes, and he found he couldn’t quite mind it.

Peeta had the situation under control, it seemed. Between his ridiculous baby talk and Katniss waving her fingers above his shoulder to get April’s attention, she had settled down. He let himself relax a little.

 “She’s perfect.” he answered when she paused to take a breath, knowing there wouldn’t be another chance if she started talking again. “She looks like Effie. She’s got her eyes. Can’t say about hair color yet, she doesn’t have many… She’s got her nose too.”

“ _Oh, very good. Do not take it the wrong way but yours isn’t an appendage that would look good on a girl and knowing you like I do you would object to plastic surgery.”_ Elindra sighed.

“April doesn’t need any plastic surgery crap.” he growled. His eyes found his daughter again and he softened. That was what she had done to him, that girl… She had made him soft. And in less than a day too. “She’s perfect.”

_“April?”_ Elindra repeated.

“April Iris Abernathy.” he confirmed. “That’s her name.”

There was a short silence and then a somehow vexed huff. _“Wasn’t Iris your mother’s name?”_

“Yeah.” he said, a warning in his voice. “So what?”

“ _Nothing, nothing.”_ she dismissed in a tone that implied there _was_ something. _“Your choice, I presume?”_

“Well, yeah.” he snorted.

_“And Effie made no suggestion to add a third middle name?”_ she insisted.

He was distracted by the way Katniss was using her hands like puppets, having clearly taken confidence in her baby distracting skills.

“No.” he frowned, not really following.

_“No matter.”_ she replied quickly, a cheer in her voice. _“April… It_ is _a lovely name. A bit_ simple _, of course, but…_ Lovely _all the same. I cannot wait to see her.”_

“Thought you’d already be on a train, to be honest.” he mocked and then immediately bit down on his own tongue. Did that sound like an invitation? He _so_ hadn’t meant it like that.

_“Well, I_ would _.”_ Elindra lamented with a sigh. _“However, there is this charity event for Tadius’ company… I must see to it, you understand? Besides, Tadius and Lyssa seem to think you would both prefer to have a few days to yourself to get used to the situation. I told them that we would certainly not be an encumbrance and that we might be able to help,_ naturally _, but they were adamant. And I_ really _do need to plan this event…”_ Her voice faltered a little. _“You will make sure Euphemia understands, won’t you? It is not that I do not want to come immediately… I really would rather come to Twelve to meet my new granddaughter…”_

“It’s fine.” he offered, realizing she was scared Effie would hold it against her. “Probably better this way. Effie’s had it rough.”

_“She_ is _alright, isn’t she?”_ she asked. _“Peeta claimed it went well. I still think giving birth at home was an_ unnecessary _folly but the boy_ did _say…”_

“She’s doing well.” he cut her off. “She’s just… tired.”

_“I can imagine, yes.”_ she commented. _“I thought… We might try to come at the end of next week. Would that be suitable?”_

“Sure.” he agreed, not really happy with that but also resolved to having to deal with the Trinkets for the rest of his life. He had honestly thought Elindra would show up in the following days, he figured a week and a half of respite wasn’t a bad deal. “Not sure you can stay _here_ , though.”

_“It is of no consequence, the inn was surprisingly pleasant for such a rustic establishment.”_ she replied. _“It will do. I am so impatient to see her… Please, send me pictures as soon as you can.”_

“Yeah. Will do.” He would send the boy to the post office the next day and be done with that. April had fallen back asleep and Peeta was tossing Katniss _a look_ that the girl was steadily ignoring, giving her bowl of soup her whole attention.

_“And you are_ positive _Effie is alright, yes?”_ Elindra insisted one last time. He hesitated long enough for the woman to obviously purse her lips at the other end of the country, her voice hardening. _“Haymitch?”_

He _really_ didn’t want her jumping on a train right now.

And he would never have believed that it was something Elindra Trinket would do a year before but things were different now and he really, really didn’t want to risk it.

“It’s fine.” he grumbled. “ _She_ ’s fine. It’s just… She might not… Maybe she doesn’t have enough…” He struggled with how to actually _word_ that. Effie wasn’t a cow and he didn’t want to make her sound like one. “It’s possible breastfeeding won’t be enough for the kid.” Both Peeta and Katniss looked up at him since it was news to them. He made a face, pretty sure Effie wouldn’t like it when she found out this particular problem was now public knowledge. He cleared his throat. “I’m just not sure how she’s gonna take it if… I guess we’re all just tired.”

_“There is nothing wrong with formula.”_ Elindra replied without missing a beat, apparently untroubled by that piece of news.

“Yeah, but…” He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure she’s gonna see it that way, that’s all.”

What was he telling her that for? Elindra didn’t really know Effie, not like _he_ did anyway…

_Except it was Elindra who had helped her get past Clay’s death_ , a treacherous voice murmured at the back of his mind. He was pretty sure if it hadn’t been for her mother, Effie would have happily remained trapped upstairs for a lot longer – assuming they had managed to convince her to come down at all.

_“I see.”_ she stated. “ _Well… There is no use losing oneself in conjectures. When you know for certain if you need formula,_ do _let me know. I am fairly certain I can find better brands in the Capitol than you can in your District. I will have a few boxes shipped. Only the best will do for our little April.”_

He relaxed a little. There wasn’t a lot he liked in the Capitol but he couldn’t deny that they had better stuff. Twelve was evolving but there would never be the same choices and opportunities as there now were in the biggest districts or in the city. “Thanks.”

_“You are welcome.”_ she hummed. _“Well, I must dash. I will call again tomorrow, shall I? Perhaps Effie will be in better shape and can come to the phone.”_

They exchanged goodbyes and he placed the phone back in its cradle with a huff. “That woman’s crazy.” He carefully stole April from Peeta’s arms. “Let’s hope you don’t become as crazy as your Grandma ‘cause your mother came close already.”

“Effie has problems feeding her?” Katniss asked, straight to the point. “She was looking forward to that.”

The _she won’t like it_ was left unsaid.

“I know.” he said. “We’ll see, yeah? Might be nothing. Finish your soup.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Yes, _Dad_.”

“We’re going with _Papa_ and you should _really_ leave sarcasm to me, sweetheart.” he smirked, watching the sleeping baby.

“She’s _so_ going to have you wrapped around her finger.” Peeta teased.

He grumbled about it but no statement had ever been truer and they all knew it.

It wasn’t really late when the kids called it a night but the last two days had been eventful. He didn’t begrudge them their right to some peace and quiet.

Haymitch wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Eventually, he settled April in her – _blue_ , which probably meant it would need to be changed – bassinet in the living-room and grabbed his book. He couldn’t focus though. Every two seconds, he glanced at the baby to make sure she was alright and still breathing.

It was almost a relief when she woke up and started crying.

She calmed down when he picked her up, her tiny lips smacking open and close… He figured she was hungry and so he carried her back upstairs, grateful that she was mostly quiet. Effie was still deeply asleep, curled up under the comforter, hugging his pillow close to her chest.

He placed April down in her crib – which she _really_ didn’t like if the agitated wriggling and the tears were any indication – and crouched next to the bed to brush his knuckles along Effie’s shoulder. She whined in protest and curled up further.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he whispered softly. “I think the shrimp’s hungry.”

“Feed her.” she grumbled, more asleep than awake.

“Yeah, I’m kind of lacking in the tits department.” he snorted. He ran his fingers through her hair, pushing her blond curls away from her face. “Come on, wake up, Princess.”

“Haymitch?” she slurred, slowly opening her eyes. “Why am I leaking?”

“Leaking?” he repeated, confused. She sat up suddenly, wrinkling her nose, holding her nightgown away from her. It was slightly wet on her chest and he made a face of his own. “That’s the crying, yeah?”

She slipped it over her head with a disgusted expression and handed the soiled fabric to him. He exchanged the nightgown for the baby. He took the opportunity of dropping it in the hamper to make full use of the bathroom. Taking a shower went a long way in helping him to relax.

He hadn’t expected to find Effie walking around when he got out, though.

She hadn’t gone far, she was just standing next to the dresser, having just stolen one of his shirt. April was back in her crib under the vigilant watch of their dog.

Effie followed his eyes and smiled. “He is cute.”

He wasn’t about to admit that the overgrown puppy was cute so he dropped a kiss on her shoulder instead. “You should be in bed.”

“You are obsessed with keeping me in bed.” she teased but her playfulness soon vanished. She looked down at her bare toes. “I truly _am_ sorry about earlier. I never meant to imply I do not trust you with her, I just… I cannot really explain it. I _am_ sorry though.”

He nudged her chin up. “It’s _fine_ but…”

“I will work on it.” she nodded. “I was atrocious with the children. I really do not know… I cannot control myself, I just… I just want her to be _safe_.”

Her tone was almost pleading. He sighed and leaned in to kiss her.

“We’re gonna be alright.” he muttered against her lips. “We’re gonna adjust.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” he said firmly.

They didn’t have a choice anyway.


	36. 3 Days

The knife slashed at her chest as Clay’s face came into view and Effie woke up with a strangled scream that echoed in the empty bedroom.

She sat there, in the middle of the tangled sheets, and panted for a moment, her eyes darting from the small specks of dust dancing in the light coming through the window to the crib next to the bed. Slowly, her heart stopped racing and sensations came back. She groaned and flopped down on her back to rub her face with her hands – sitting was still a bit painful.

Once she was certain the nightmare wouldn’t turn into something more, like a panic attack or a flashback, she felt around the bed with her free hand. The sheets were cold and, given how bright it was outside, she figured it must have been late.

Anxiety immediately made the content of her stomach slosh around.

Where was April?

She tried to calm down, to breathe in and out slowly, to get those treacherous feelings under control… She _knew_ her daughter was most likely fine, with Haymitch somewhere in the house, and that she was overreacting. She had promised him she would work on those impulses to keep April close at all cost and she _had_ mostly – letting Peeta hold her in her presence had been torture at first but it had made the boy so happy… But she couldn’t help it. She _couldn’t_.

She was out of bed before she could remind herself she was being irrational.

She hadn’t left the bedroom much since the birth. She had briefly wandered downstairs the previous day, after Doctor Larcher had given her the all-clear, barely long enough to phone her family and Four.

She was still a little tired and she felt _gross_. There were things about the aftermath of birth that nobody told you about and now she realized why. It was somehow worse than having one’s period and the fact that she couldn’t use tampons wasn’t helping in the slightest, she had never been a fan of pads. And she felt clammy too. She had washed with a cloth at the sink but it had been all that she had felt the strength to do after delivery and she now felt an urge to take a very long shower.

But all that was secondary to finding her daughter.

She followed the quiet noises to the kitchen.

Her stomach finally settled when she caught sight of what was happening in there. The backdoor was cracked open and Snowball was lying half-in and half-out, no doubt keeping an eye on the geese wandering outside. Haymitch was flipping things in a pan, wearing his red and grey checkered sweatpants and nothing else. She took a second to admire the hard lines of his back, her eyes lingering a little on the familiar faded scars, and then fell on the baby seat on the middle of the table.

She made a beeline for April.

The baby was sleeping and she didn’t want to wake her so she simply placed her hand on the center of her chest, happy to feel it regularly rise and fall.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d slipped in a coma.” Haymitch snorted, making the round _something_ jump in the pan.

The counter was a mess of flour and dough and she eventually guessed he was making pancakes. Enough pancakes to feed an army. She eyed the small tower piled in a plate to his left with amusement.

“Are we expecting the rest of Panem for breakfast?” she teased.

“Just the kids.” he snorted.

She stepped closer and stretched her neck for her morning kiss. It was just a peck and they shared a look afterwards before bursting out laughing. Well… _She_ laughed, Haymitch _chuckled_.

He rubbed the back of  his neck, amusement still plainly visible on his face.

“When did we get so disgustingly domestic, sweetheart?” he joked.

“Does it matter?” she grinned.

Domestic or not, ridiculous or not… She was certain she could never be happier than at that moment. Well. She might. If she had felt a bit less filthy.

The moment she had thought the word her smile turned to a small wince.

She could smell herself and it was bad. Rot and decay and…

A hand cupped her cheek and she blinked hard, coming back to the present.

“You should go grab a shower, sweetheart.” he suggested, always attuned to her needs. “Get dolled up even. I’ve got it under control.” She tossed an hesitant look to April, reluctant to be parted from her even for a second but… “We’ve been fine so far, we’ll be fine for a little more. You can have your turn with her when you feel better.” He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Besides… Now, you’ve gotta eat a hundred pancakes.”

“Certainly not.” she huffed. “I intend to get my figure back.” She smoothed his borrowed shirt over her budging stomach and let her eyes linger on the baby. “I don’t know why it is so hard… I _know_ she is fine with you. I just…” The prospect of leaving her behind, even if it was only _in another room_ was enough to bring tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

“You’re her mom and it’s still new.” he shrugged. “Can’t say I’m too happy when I can’t see her either. It’ll get better.”

“Will it?” she whispered.

His mouth twitched into a smirk. “Worse comes to worse, we’ll be those annoying parents who follow their kid everywhere. Bet she’s gonna love it when she’s a teenager.”

She made a face. “Do not talk of her being a teenager. We will be _ancient_ by then.”

“You’ll still be gorgeous.” he countered smoothly.

She snorted and fought her own smile.

“You are an idiot.” she accused with fondness. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and let out a sigh. “I will be back in a flash.”

“Take your time.” he dismissed.

She stopped by the table to drop a kiss on her daughter’s head before scurrying upstairs. She caught a glimpse of the bed on her way to the bathroom and wrinkled her nose in distaste. It only took her a couple of minutes to undress it. She would do it later, she decided, and maybe she would clean around a little too because she had been remiss in the last few weeks and…

She shook her head and forced herself to get a hold on her compulsions. She wasn’t in a cell, the bedroom was clean enough, it would be alright.

She stepped into the shower and let the warm water run on her body – and it was _bliss_. She gradually relaxed, forgetting to fret for a few minutes. She took her time rubbing her scented gel on her body and she took even longer working the shampoo in her hair.

She felt _refreshed_ when she finally emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam. Once she had dried herself, she passed the towel on the mirror to get a clear reflection and she took a good hard look at herself.

She had felt so _huge_ lately…

She didn’t look as bad as she remembered. The pressing weight on her stomach had disappeared and that was already a good point. She certainly wasn’t _slim_ anymore but she didn’t feel ready to burst either and she figured that with a proper healthy diet and some exercising, she could get back in shape in a couple of months.

It made her feel good about herself.

She hummed as she selected an outfit for the day – something that she hadn’t indulged in in a while because inelegant stretchy pants and loose shirts had been all she could get comfortable in. She settled on a pink dress with an empire waist that mostly hid the flaws in her figures. She wanted to couple it with heels too but she wasn’t sure it was wise yet. _Tomorrow_ , she decided and it made her smile.

She felt a lot more like herself once her hair was tied up in a fancy bun and she had applied some make-up on her face. She clasped the butterfly necklace around her neck and grinned when she felt it settle on her collarbone.

She looked less like a pregnant elephant and more like Effie Trinket.

She was sporting a bright smile on her lips when she walked back down.

Everyone in the kitchen did a double take, which made her feel very cocky. Peeta was smiling wide, Katniss looked a little relieved and Haymitch just licked his lips.

“Well, _shit_ , sweetheart…” he breathed out, his gaze turning a little dark with lust.

For all his oaths that he always found her beautiful, she had _known_ he was most likely partially lying. It was alright. She liked herself better when she was presentable too.

“ _Language_ , Haymitch.” she chided him. “I won’t have you talk like that when you have my baby in your arms.” She lost no time in stealing said baby from him, though. April was awake, bright blue eyes staring back at her… “Hello, my darling…” She could have gotten lost in her daughter’s eyes but she forced herself to make an effort. “And hello to you too, children.”

“You look beautiful, Effie.” Peeta offered, always the gentleman.

She smiled back at him. “I _did_ try.”

“Well, that’s a win.” Haymitch snorted, taking his seat at the table where four plates were waiting. “Breakfast, come on.”

She pretended not to notice the chair intended for her had a nice fluffy cushion on it. It was thoughtful, certainly, but also a little embarrassing. She transferred April in her left arm, propping it on the table so it wouldn’t get tired and made sure she was comfortable before she started eating.

The conversation was easy.

The children joked and laughed, teasing Haymitch about something or other… Effie wasn’t really following, she sometimes made a remark but she was distracted by the bundle of joy in her arms. She couldn’t stop staring at her daughter, marveling at her. 

In a flash of mad imagination, she saw the rest of her life and it was a succession of quiet mornings like this one: her baby nearby, her _not quite_ babies arguing with Haymitch about why he really should put on a shirt before they came around, Haymitch feeding the banter and stealing glances at her when they weren’t looking… The two of them sharing secret smiles to which the children were oblivious.

The old Effie Trinket, the one who had dreamed of glory and influence, would have been horrified by a fate she had always tried her hardest to avoid. She had never wanted to be only a mother or a wife to a man who would regard her as some possession. She had always wanted to be _more_.

Right then, she would have been happy if being a mother and a wife was the last things she got to be. In no small part because Haymitch would never behave like she was a doll on a shelf for him to play with when the fancy struck.

There would be exciting new things in her life, she was sure, but for now… For now she was content with what she had. It was more than she ever thought she would get.

A family of her own.

Healthy and happy…

She hid her smile against her daughter’s brow as she dropped a kiss on her head.

April made a small sound that held no real meaning but that made Effie smile harder. She soon became unsettled though and Effie excused herself to feed her in the living-room. It was a bit less painful but it still wasn’t comfortable, her nipples felt raw and irritated and no amount of advices or tips to help actually made a difference.

April still looked hungry when she eventually took her away from her breast. It took her a few minutes to calm her down. She was a sweet-tempered thing though – at least when Effie wasn’t a ball of nerves – she settled down quickly.

“We got a delivery.” Haymitch said, leaning against the doorframe. “Not that you could hear over the wailing… I’m telling you, sweetheart, she’s got your lungs.” She tried to force a smile but didn’t quite manage. She felt sad because she _knew_ , Doctor Larcher’s recommendations to wait and see or to take it easy notwithstanding. Haymitch frowned. “Effie, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “We will talk about it with the doctor when he comes over later.”

His grey eyes darted to the baby and he immediately outstretched his arms in an instinctive plea to be allowed to protect and comfort. She had to remind herself nobody would be taking April away before she handed her over, hiding behind a mask of fake cheerfulness that was still almost too easy to conjure.

The baby safely cradled in his left arm, he brushed slightly trembling fingers against Effie’s cheek. She leaned in the caress but her eyes remained sad.

“You think she’s still hungry again?” he asked, uncertain.

“Call it a mother’s instinct.” she whispered. “I know.”

“Larcher said we needed to wait and see.” he hesitated. “Maybe…”

“We will see.” she dismissed. “A delivery, you said?”

He touched her shoulder before she could wander too far away.

“Sweetheart, if we have to add bottles…” He shrugged, careful not to disturb the baby. It was the most precious thing, really, to see him holding their daughter close to his bare chest. “It doesn’t mean you failed or any _bullshit_ like that.”

She flashed him a smile but escaped his knowing gaze by taking refuge in the kitchen. Katniss and Peeta were chatting while doing the dishes, she turned her attention to the huge package in the middle of the table. The return address was her parents’ and her mood improved drastically. Her mother had promised to send some stuff over in express but nothing had arrived so far and Effie had started to think Elindra would be there well before the gifts.

She grabbed a knife from the drawer – and tried not to remember what had happened the last time she had opened a package from her mother with one of those because _the knife slashed and Clay’ s face and…_

“Do you need help?” Peeta asked, gently taking the knife from her clenched fingers. It took her a second to relax her fist but the boy simply waited as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Those packages can be so tricky…”

She nodded, taking the excuse he was giving her with gratefulness.

Katniss didn’t seem to think anything of it but Haymitch, who had followed her in the room, was now studying her with rapt attention. He had picked up the cat rag doll somewhere and he was distractedly playing with it, making it dance in front of April’s face.

It was a ridiculous sight and she wasn’t really surprised when a camera flashed. Katniss had made it her mission to collect as many embarrassing pictures of Haymitch as she could – Effie believed there was a bet out there with Johanna.

The bright flash, unfortunately, did nothing for her. It briefly blinded her and… _her cell was dark. Dark. Dark. Dark._

She breathed in through her nose, made a point of identifying the different smells in the kitchen… The dishwater soap, the lingering scent of pancakes and syrup in the air, the faint touch of dog fur…

“Here you go, Effie.” Peeta said. It was loud. It was loud but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was trying to get her attention or because of the hissing sound in her ears.

Her fingers were shaking but she kept smiling as she reached for the now ripped open package. She smiled when she saw what was inside though and it helped chase the memories away.

 _Darling_ little outfits, small hats and soft headbands…

She piled them up next to the box, her smile growing more genuine with every new item she took out.

“Guess you’re getting a change of clothes, shrimp.” Haymitch snorted, venturing closer.

There were a few other things in the box: a mobile with stars and unicorns, some practical items they already had but in pink this time around and a lot of glittery fuchsia pacifiers that immediately caught Haymitch’s attention.

“ _Fabulous_.” he teased her.

She pouted. “I am not sure I want her to use a pacifier. We will have trouble training her off it.”

He handed the baby to Peeta who readily took her to go sterilize one with a shrug. “Let’s see if she likes it first.”

Her pout deepened but she kept her peace, gently tracing circles on April’s tummy. The baby was happy in Peeta’s arms, probably because she knew the boy was already wrapped around her little finger. She would be a charmer, this one.

Effie thought Haymitch was only eager for her to use the pacifier because it was pink and glittery and because it would allow him a new range of jokes about how April was her mother’s daughter. And, naturally, April took to the pink sparkling monstrosity with delight.

Haymitch smirked and Effie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_.” she warned before he could comment. She scooped her daughter up and nodded at the clothes. “Help me get those up to the nursery, will you?”

Once everything was upstairs and she had April on the changing table, she faltered a little. So far, Haymitch had been the one taking care of diapers and outfits because she had been confined to her bed. Her manicured nails were no help in that matter and she struggled to change her diaper – all the while wrinkling her nose at _the mess_ – disgusted by it all.

“I think you will be in charge of diaper changing from now on.” she declared, when Haymitch wheeled the crib back in the nursery as she had asked.

“No way, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “That’s shared duty.”

He pressed a kiss against her neck and waved at April over her shoulder.

“Do _not_ kiss me when I smell like baby poop.” she grumbled.

“It’s still poop.” he snorted. “Adding _baby_ before it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

She pursed her lips at him but finished dressing April in a brand new red romper with little white dots and a green rigged collar that made her look like a little strawberry. She added its matching little green hat.

“You look _darling_.” she declared with a bright smile.

“Please, tell me you’re not going to dress her up every day like a doll.” he scoffed. “Cause what went for a boy… We _agreed_ on how we wanted to raise our kid. You’re not going to try and turn her into a crazy fashion person, yeah?”

She frowned at him, not really pleased with the assumption.

“I simply want her to look pretty.” she replied. “Is that wrong?”

“As long as we’re clear she doesn’t have to be proper and _shit_.” he warned. “Say, when she’s older she likes pants better… Or running outside… Or climbing trees…”

“She will do what she wants.” she cut him off. “ _Except_ climbing trees. That sounds very unsafe.” She waved her hand to dismiss that, keeping her other one of April’s stomach to avoid any incident – _all_ the books agreed you should never leave a baby unattended on a changing table. “I want her to be everything she wants to be. That does not mean I am not hoping to give her some sort of fashion sense.” She gave him a small shrug. “Besides, she is little still and I like dressing her in cute outfits. Where is the harm?”

“There’s none as long as you remember she’s not a toy or an accessory.” he replied.

She shot him a glare. “I do not like what you are implying.”

She knew what he was implying though. Capitols used their children that way. They left them to nannies to be brought up and only took them out to be seen and marveled at. Capitol children, in the elite, were little more than human dolls.

Effie had never wanted her own children to be raised in that way.

His grey eyes flickered from her to April and back. He winced. “Sorry.”

“Yes, I believe you ought to be.” she huffed, carefully lifting her daughter up to place her in her crib before opening the dresser’s drawer. She needed to sort the clothes they had bought. Some could be kept but others had clearly been meant for a boy and wouldn’t do. “ _Honestly_.”

Arms wrapped around her mid-section and his nose nuzzled her neck.

“I’m just…” he hesitated. “I’m feeling a bit… overprotective. She’s so small and…” He shrugged awkwardly. “Look… I was ready for a boy and… Girls seem more like your territory than mine.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidity. “Have you forgotten Katniss and Johanna? Because I _guarantee_ you are better at handling them than I am.”

“Different.” he scoffed. “They’re…”

“They look up to you and they love you just like our daughter will.” she interrupted. “It is not so different. You will do fine with a girl and I won’t make my mother’s mistakes. We will… We will _learn_. We will manage. _Together_. Isn’t that what you promised me?”

He brushed his fingers on the butterfly resting over her collarbone. “Yeah.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Yeah, we will.”

“Good.” she answered. “Now help me, would you? This house is in complete disarray.”

Truth be told, it wasn’t _that_ bad and she knew that her cleaning impulses had more to do with how unsettled she felt that day. She managed to sort through the clothes while he fixed the mobile on the crib – without waking April up and that was a feat – but doing some actual cleaning proved to be difficult.

They tested the baby monitor at least ten times but neither of them could take more than two steps out of the nursery without freaking out. The idea that April would be by herself… It was far too much to bear. 

In the end, they leaned against the corridor’s wall, shoulder to shoulder, their arms brushing against each other.

“That’s gonna be a problem.” he remarked eventually.

“We are _very_ deranged people.” she sighed. “She is fine. I _know_ she is fine.” She looked at the monitor in her hand. “What is wrong with us?”

“We lost too much.” he said quietly.

Snowball wandered by, stared at them for a moment and then paddled in the nursery. Effie followed, immediately alarmed that he would try to steal something from the crib again and accidentally crush their daughter to death but, instead, the dog lied down next to it. An animal shield.

“Good boy.” she whispered and Snowball rolled on his back in answer, presenting his belly to rub. She humored him. “Very good job, my pretty baby. You stay here and keep watch.”

It probably wasn’t the healthiest idea and some people would have argued that it wasn’t safe to leave a baby with an animal but…

She knew with every fiber of her being that the puppy would _never_ hurt their daughter. He would stay there and protect, just like he was trained to do.

The fact that Snowball was with April actually allowed them to wander a little further. They kept to the first floor though, wary of going downstairs, and they regularly peeked inside the nursery despite the baby monitor remaining silent.

She used the vacuum cleaner and mopped the floors… She gave Haymitch instructions that he did not follow at all… He was a hindrance. Instead of doing what he was told – never quite interested in chores – he distracted her with kisses and wandering hands.

“You _are_ aware a baby kills one’s sexuality, yes?” she grinned up at him. As soon as the bed had been made, he had pushed her down on it – so she would _rest_ , as he had put it, but there had been more kissing than resting. “Not that anything of that sort will happen any time soon.”

She wasn’t sure how long exactly the bleeding would last but she knew it was supposed to be some time. And she felt so tender down there that… No. They wouldn’t have sex in the immediate future.

“Not for us.” he smirked. “Nothing can do _that_. We’re too good at it.”

She burst out laughing.

Because he was stupid and she loved him for it. 

At the first cry of her daughter, Effie was off the bed and in the nursery in a flash, quickly followed by Haymitch. She scooped April up and gently rocked her until she stopped crying, making her way to the rocking-chair. Sitting still wasn’t comfortable but a glance at the clock confirmed it was feeding time again. She knew it was important to try and keep to a schedule.

Haymitch didn’t quite watch. He crouched and played with Snowball, sometimes glancing up but still somehow ill-at-ease with breastfeeding. She thought it was idiotic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her breasts a million times. What was so disconcerting about it?

He brushed it off when she asked, mumbled something about it being weird – she didn’t try to pry further, she figured it had something to do with his own fondness for sucking on her nipples.

Once April was fed and calm once more, they were at a loss.

It was difficult to find a sense of normalcy. Neither of them was sure of what to do. Carrying on with their lives seemed unthinkable, not when they had a baby to take care of. In the end, they ended up in the living-room, watching their daughter who was happily falling back asleep in the baby seat, taking turn running errands around the house. At some point, she answered the phone and had to force herself not to sound rude or impatient when her mother kept her a lot longer than she would have liked.

Larcher usually arrived around five and she kept glancing at the clock, her anxiety levels rising with each passing minute. When the doctor finally showed up, she was so nervous her hands were shaking.

She watched him examine their daughter and she saw the small wince when he checked her weight.

“We need to switch to formula.” she said before he could.

“Not _switch_.” Larcher temporized. “You can _still_ feed her, Effie. We will give her formula in addition to breastfeeding.”

He asked questions. How many times April fed day and night, at which approximate times, when it was the most difficult for Effie to produce milk… She let Haymitch answer most of those questions, forcing herself to keep a smile on her lips and resolutely ignoring the worried glances the two men were giving her.

She let Haymitch walk the doctor back to the door and crouched in front of the coffee table where the baby seat was placed. April’s blue eyes stared straight at her, so bright and trusting… Her smile softened into something genuine if a little sad. She dropped a kiss on her forehead and walked away to lean against the couch and look through the window.

The baby started crying almost as soon as she left her sight.

Haymitch tossed her a puzzled look when he came back, clearly not understanding why she was letting their daughter cry. He immediately picked her up, struggling a little with the pacifier when he tried to give it back to her… Effie closed her eyes when she heard April starting to calm down.

“Effie…” he sighed.

She felt him come closer and she let him. She let him because what was the alternative? Running away? If she did she wasn’t sure she would ever stop. Leaving April behind would devastate her but there was a tenacious little voice at the back of her head that whispered that it might be best, that their daughter didn’t need her, that…

“Why can’t I ever be enough?” she breathed out softly, almost too softly to be heard.

She had never been enough for her mother. She hadn’t been enough for the Capitol. She hadn’t been enough for _Haymitch –_ not for a long time at least.

She had hoped that…

“Don’t think like that.” he rebuked her. “You’re more than enough.” She scoffed bitterly but he scowled and, before she could call out his lie, he forced the baby in her arms.  Making sure April was safe was instinctive, cradling her close was purely selfish… She loved feeling her against her chest. “You’re her _everything_.” he spat, _harsh_. He was always harsh with the important truths. “It’s not her fault she’s not getting enough to eat. It’s not _your_ fault either. You want to blame someone, blame the assholes who tortured you. _Fucking_ blame me. It’s _not_ your fault.”

“I do not blame you.” she denied at once, searching his eyes.

He ignored her.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You’re not gonna let this be a problem, alright?” he insisted. “We give her what she needs. No child of mine is gonna go to bed hungry, yeah?”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. He sounded a little on edge and she knew that the food issue was always a sensitive one. 

“I’m sorry…” she hesitated. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for: failing to feed April or his own insecurities being woken up by it.

“No.” He made a face. “Don’t… It’s not…” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I meant if she needs more than you can give, it doesn’t mean you’re not enough for her, alright? ‘Cause… She loves you.”

“She is three days old.” she pointed out. “I am not sure…”

“You don’t see the way she looks at you.” he snorted. “You’re her whole world, Effie. Look…” April _was_ looking at her, her tiny fist curling and uncurling as she sucked on the pacifier. It brought tears to her eyes because she loved her _so much_ … “You’re enough. You’re _more_ than _fucking_ enough. You don’t have to ask yourself that stupid question _ever_ again ‘cause you’re _her whole fucking world_.” She was so busy watching their daughter she almost startled when he wrapped his arms around her waist and propped his chin on her shoulder. “ _Mine_ too.” he mumbled awkwardly before pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

She relaxed against his chest.

“You say the sweetest things, Haymitch, but I _do_ wish you would mind your language.” she joked.

She expected him to make a joke of his own, to deflate the emotionally tense moment…

He kissed her temple instead, deadly serious. “It’s true.”

April made a small noise as if to agree with her father…

How could she not believe them?


	37. 7 Days

Haymitch woke up gasping for air, an arm bent in front of his face to protect himself and his free hand feeling around for the handle of his knife. There was a voice but he couldn’t focus on it. He couldn’t _hear_ it. His ears were ringing.

Eventually, the fact that all his palm was finding were sheets, blankets and pillows registered and he started blinking hard, fighting against the nightmare’s daze. His heart was thumping hard in his chest, adrenaline was running through his body…

“Haymitch.”

He snapped his head up in the direction of the noise, almost surprised to find Effie standing there, in the far corner of the room, in front of the crib. It wasn’t its usual place, she must have moved it. She must have gotten out of bed when she had understood the night terror was a bad one. For a second though, nothing made sense. Effie. The crib. The loud wailing of the baby.

Then, he remembered.

Effie and April. His family.

He fingered the band on his ring finger with his thumb because he needed a tangible proof that it was real.

“Are you back?” she asked softly.

He grunted in answer, still short of breath, and ran his fingers in his hair, pulling at the roots. The pain was small at best but it was welcomed. It helped him focus.

Effie took a step toward him, her arm outstretched, her other hand still gripping the edge of the crib. He recoiled, his grey eyes darting back to her as if she was a potential threat.

He forced himself to breathe but the baby’s piercing cries were giving him a nasty headache and…

“Get her to shut up.” he spat and, when he realized what he had just said, he winced guiltily. “I just… _Please_ , get her to shut up.”

Effie hesitated. She studied him a second and then turned around to pick April up. She rocked her a little, humming the familiar lullaby… The baby calmed down a little but not completely.

“She is probably hungry…” she claimed. “It is almost time for her bottle. Maybe you could…”

“No.” he growled, staring at the blankets. His skin was itching. All over. He was covered in sweat and he was cold. His head… The headache behind his eyes was… _bad_.

“Perhaps it would do you good to take care of her…” she insisted. “She soothes you. And you always take care of the bottles, I am not sure if…”

“Take your head out of your ass.” he cut her off. He knew she didn’t like doing the bottles. He was in charge of feeding April with bottles because it allowed them to share the duties more equally and because she still resented not being able to feed her by herself despite her claims that she had come to term with it. “I can’t hold her.”

He lifted his hand and it hovered in the air, its tremor so pronounced he could barely close his fist.

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him but blissfully didn’t call him out on his language.

“It was a nightmare. Everything is fine. Try to relax and…” she suggested.

“It’s not the _fucking_ nightmare.” he snapped.

April started crying in earnest again and he pressed his hands against his ears, unable to bear it. Everything was an aggression. His throat was parched. He felt queasy. And cold. So, _so_ cold…

“Haymitch…” she whispered.

“I need a shower.” he mumbled – because it was better than saying _I need a drink_.

He didn’t look at her when he stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom. His legs barely held his weight. This was bad. _Really_ bad. He made it to the shower but struggled to turn it on.

It didn’t bring any immediate relief.

He bowed his head and let the water tumble on his back and nape but the noise made him feel as if his brain was about to explode. It made him dizzy and nauseous. The fact that his stomach was churning with dread over the nightmare wasn’t helping.

He opened and closed his fists a few times but it didn’t stop the tremors.

The only thing that would make them stop… The only thing that would wash away the bad taste in his mouth…

He closed his eyes and lifted his face up.

It didn’t make a difference. The drops he licked from his lips did nothing to quench his thirst.

He felt like throwing up. Suddenly, without much of a transition time, he went from being frozen to being too hot. He turned the shower off and stepped out of there, finding it hard to breathe. He grabbed a towel and wandered back to the bedroom, fleeing the steam that was clouding the air.

_“Is it good, darling?”_ Effie’s voice asked softly. His eyes darted around the empty bedroom and settled on the baby monitor abandoned on the dresser. _“Do not worry, April. Papa will feel better soon. It was just a bad dream.”_

He dried himself off. Usually her humming to the baby while she fed her would make him feel at peace but right then… It was like someone was drilling nails into his skull.

_“You should not be scared of our bad dreams…_ ” Effie went on as he grabbed the first pair of pants and the first shirt he found. _“Bad things happened to us but… We will make sure nothing like that happens to you. Ever. We love you so, so much…”_

That, at least, he could relate to and it allowed him to stop and _think_ for a moment. He knew what he wanted to do and it was exactly what he _shouldn’t_ do.

_“He is the bravest man I know, your papa.”_ Effie hummed. _“I will tell you all about it one day, when you are old enough to understand. He will try to tell you but… He does not see himself like I see him. I wish he would.”_

He snorted. 

There was a matter of pot and kettle here…

Unfortunately, the reminder that they would have to talk to April about their past someday… With a sigh, he put on his boots and went downstairs. Effie looked up with a small hesitant smile when he stepped in the kitchen. The dog was lying at her feet, fast asleep.

“Do you feel better?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

He shook his head with a wince at her high-pitched voice.

“I’m gonna get some air.” he told her.

She immediately frowned and stopped paying attention to what she was doing long enough that April choked and threw up on her shoulder. She winced for entirely new reasons – being covered in poop, pee or puke didn’t suit her obsession for being clean inherited from her stay in the cells. They both had so many triggers.

For the first time, he wondered if she hadn’t been right all those months ago. If they had bitten on more than they could chew. If April didn’t deserve better than…

“It’s two a.m.” she countered. “Where will you go?”

“Not far.” he mumbled.

“Take Snowball then.” she insisted, trying to deal with the crying baby and to wipe the baby puke from her skin at the same time. She gently nudged the dog with her foot, Snowball yawned and looked up at him with hazy eyes.

“He’s asleep.” he dismissed. “I’ll be fine. I’d like it better if he stuck with you anyway.”

“Nonsense.” she retorted. “You are _not_ going off into the night without Snowball. I will lock the doors behind you.”

Arguing would only make his headache worse and chances were she would have her way in the end. It seemed easier to comply. He nodded his assent, grabbed his coat and clicked his fingers. Snowball stood up and shook himself before obediently paddling over to him. Haymitch petted him distractedly, rummaging around the mess of unopened mail on the dresser for his keys.

“Don’t wait up.” he muttered as he headed for the backdoor.

“Can I…” she hesitated.

“No.” he cut her off before she could offer her help. “I’ll be fine. I just… I need some air, yeah?”

April was still crying and she was clearly torn between attending to him and taking care of their daughter. In the end, she surrendered to the need of looking after the shrimp.

“Be careful.” she requested.

He took advantage of having his back turned to her to roll his eyes as he stepped through the door. Listening to her, one would think he was going off to war not to the _backyard_.

He went to the pen first, Snowball sticking close to his left leg. The geese were all tucked in for the night and there wasn’t much to see or do. The fresh air wasn’t the relief he had hoped for either. It was cool outside and he buried his shaking hands in the pockets of his coat.

At least, he wasn’t feeling like he was burning up anymore.

And the feeling of suffocation was gone too.

He started walking without a destination in mind. The roads were familiar. He used to roam around the Village at night before Effie had moved in, for lack of anything better to do. Walking always cleared his head a little.

It had never cleared out his thirst before though and that night was no exception.

His feet took him in the direction of the town and he let them because the woods weren’t an option at this time of night. The streets were silent. It was like a ghost town and it was hard to focus on what really was there. He had to remind himself there were no destroyed buildings and no charred corpses in the middle of the streets. Every time he blinked, his surroundings switched from reality to the persistent memories plaguing his mind.

He wanted a drink.

And he wasn’t surprised when he ended up in what used to be the Seam, in the exact spot the Hob used to stand. They had rebuilt it, made it a commercial area with shiny signs and shop windows… Sae’s restaurant was at the very end of the lane.

He stopped in front of a shoemaker’s shop, staring through the dark window but not seeing anything that was on display. Ripper’s booth used to be right there. He used to come here at all hours of day and night when he needed liquor.

He supposed it was muscle memory.

He felt sorry about the old woman who had survived a mine’s cave-in only to find herself buried alive under the Capitol’s bombs. There was an irony there that he didn’t find remotely funny.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at shoes he had no interest in and seeing bottles of various sizes and origins filled with homemade moonshine instead.

The first drop of rain crashed on his shoulder and before he even had time to think about heading home, the sky burst open without warning and he was soaked to the bones.

Snowball barked in protest and dashed in the direction they had come from before stopping and running back to him to bark again. Haymitch passed a hand over his face, lifted the collar of his coat over his head to protect himself from the storm brewing overhead and did the only sensible thing: he ran after the dog.

The Samoyed clearly mistook that for a game because he let Haymitch catch up only to dart further away, apparently delighted in being chased through the rain. Sometimes, he ran circles around him before dashing ahead as if to taunt him, barking a playful challenge – and no doubt waking up half the streets they were passing through.

He was completely drenched by the time he reached the slope that led up to the Village but he also felt a lot better. The thirst hadn’t gone away and the fingers that were gripping his collar to keep it over his head were still trembling but he didn’t feel like he was about to throw up or pass out anytime soon and he supposed that it was a victory in itself.

The lights were still on in the kitchen so he went for the backdoor instead of the front one.

Effie was sitting at the table, a cup of tea cradled between her hands, a steaming teapot a few inches away. She stood up when he came in and ushered him and the dog inside.

He only realized he was shivering when she unbuttoned his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She did the same with his shirt and his pants. He let her undress him and dry him with towels she had obviously kept ready in anticipation of his return.

They both remained silent for a long time.

“Sit down.” were the first words she muttered and, when he did, she fell silent once more. She toweled his hair dry, occasionally running her fingers through it to untangle some knots.

“I’m sorry.” he said eventually, almost too low to be heard. “Shouldn’t take off like that. Not anymore.”

“I do not mind you leaving for a while when it becomes too much.” she denied. “Not as long as you come back to me.”

“Never been an option.” he snorted.

She pressed a kiss on the top of his head and pushed her half drunk cup of tea in front of him. “Warm yourself up. I will go get you some clothes.”

“Where’s April?” he frowned.

“In her crib.” she answered, nodding to the baby monitor on the table. “She fell back asleep.”

“And you left her upstairs alone?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.

“I have been checking on her every five minutes.” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “ _Do_ try to towel the dog dry before he puts water everywhere when you are done with that tea.”

His hands were nowhere near steady enough to hold a mug so he focused on Snowball instead. He did as good a job as he could and it was a poor one but the dog wasn’t holding grudges and placed his head on Haymitch’s knee when his owner sat back down. Of course, he immediately dashed straight to Effie when she reappeared with sweatpants and a shirt.

She picked up the towel he had discarded and rubbed Snowball’s fur with it, to the dog’s obvious delight. Her eyes darted from the untouched cup of tea to his face and she pursed her lips a little.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He struggled to get the pants on and didn’t make any attempt at slipping the shirt on.

“What’s there to say?” he scoffed. “I want a _fucking_ drink.” She took another mug from the cupboard and filled it with tea from the pot. He watched her blow on it before taking a sip. At the smell, he knew it was his favorite brand not hers and the knowledge she had been waiting for him with his favorite tea… He felt guilty. A week with a newborn had taught them all about the importance of sleep and… “You should have gone back to bed.”

“I am no stranger to sleepless nights, Haymitch.” she dismissed. “You would stay awake for me, I don’t mind staying awake with you.” Her face softened. “I just wish I could actually _help_.”

“Miss the times you could distract me?” he smirked.

Her gaze shifted to his groin. She looked pensive for a second.

“I could _still_ distract you…” she hummed, licking her lips. “My mouth is working fine…”

The flash of arousal was enough to make him forget about his shaking hands for a moment but he came back to himself quickly. “I was only joking, sweetheart. I can wait.”

She pouted a little but didn’t insist. “Do you want to talk about the nightmare? What was it about?”

He shook his head and wrapped his hands around the mug of now tepid tea. The tremors were still there but they were calming down and he managed to bring the mug to his mouth without embarrassing himself.

“Don’t remember.” he shrugged. “Just… _bad_.”

She sighed and propped her hip against the table next to him to coil a hand around his nape. He stretched his neck to respond to her kiss. He relaxed into it and groaned when she drew back with a satisfied smile. She pecked his lips one last time and then sank on the closest chair.

“You hadn’t had one in a while. Perhaps it has to do with…” She let her sentence trail off. She wrinkled her nose and nodded at the trash can.

He understood what she was talking about without her needing to voice it. He had tossed the newspaper in there that morning. He _knew_ that a week of respite had already been more than they could hope for. In retrospect, they should have been expecting it but they had been cooped up in their cocoon since April’s birth and the _“It’s A Girl!”_ headline had taken them aback.

The article had been detailed too and, if there had been a lot of crap in it, they had also gotten a few things right. Like April’s full name for instance. He supposed they had bribed someone at the Justice Building. They hadn’t managed to snatch a picture of her because they hadn’t taken the baby out of the house yet but they _had_ one of Haymitch buying diapers.

It had unsettled him.

Not really surprised him but unsettled him.

He had always known there would be no keeping the press away for long but…

“I wish they would leave us alone.” he sighed. “It’s hard enough without…”

Without having to do it in front of the whole country when half of it was waiting for them to fail and the other half hated them.

“I know.” she whispered with a small sigh of her own. Her fingers clenched around the mug.

They drank their tea in silence for a few minutes and then he cleared his throat, staring at the wood of the table instead of looking at her.

“I won’t relapse.” he said.

She reached out to squeeze his wrist. “You don’t need to convince me. I _know_.”

“There’s nothing I won’t do for this kid.” he promised.

And staying sober was a small price to pay for the chance April had given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Let me know, it keeps me going!


	38. 11 Days

Effie _loved_ bath time.

She liked making faces at April while she washed her, she liked the baby’s obvious delight at being in the green plastic bathtub… Her daughter’s favorite toy seemed to be the red fish. She was far too young and small to play with them yet but every time Effie made the fish slowly wave in front of her face, she could have sworn her eyes brightened.

“I love your laugh.” Haymitch’s voice said suddenly behind her. “I ever told you that?”

“You might have.” she hummed, flashing him a grin over her shoulder. The baby bathtub was inside the bathtub and she was kneeling next to it. She wrinkled her nose at April, still attentive that the baby didn’t slip further down the tub even if the risks were limited – all their material was top notch. “Look who is here… It’s your papa!”

Haymitch lowered himself on the floor next to her and smirked at the kid. “Look at that… A shrimp in water.” Effie smiled but covertly studied him. He had been under the weather for a few days now. She was trying to be discrete but, clearly, she was failing because he rolled his eyes at April. “Tell your mama to stop worrying about me, sweetheart.”

She pursed her lips, not quite amused. “How are the tremors today?”

He showed her his hand without giving a verbal answer. His fingers weren’t shaking as much as they had a few nights earlier but they weren’t exactly steady either. He had been avoiding carrying April, which meant _she_ had the double of work and it was starting to take its toll on her body. She was tired and the fact that he hadn’t really been sleeping, added to their daughter’s frequent wailing for food, kept her up at night.

They had been doing well at first but now she was afraid they were headed toward the _nightmarish_ period Johanna had described at length and Eileen had alluded to. Not enough sleep, too much laundry to do – because it was _astonishing_ how much clothes a baby went through a day – general crankiness due to the fact their whole life revolved around a little human being, her body still recovering from childbirth… _And_ worrying about Haymitch, it seemed. Plus the fact that she had to give her baby formula because she couldn’t produce enough milk.

Her mother had been sending boxes upon boxes of that, insisting that the brands in the Capitol were much healthier than the one in Twelve. Haymitch had seemed to agree. Effie had no opinion whatsoever, she would have liked it better if April had remained completely on the breast.

“And how is…” she hesitated, letting her sentence trail off. He didn’t like talking about his thirst for liquor. She had a feeling he viewed it as a weakness and he had never been able to deal very well with his own flaws. He felt guilty about it.

“I’m dealing.” he said, in a definitive tone. “I’ll be fine.”

“Perhaps, you should consult Doctor Larcher.” she suggested – not for the first time.

“He’s gonna ask if I want to go back on the pills.” he grumbled. “I don’t want the pills. I don’t need a treatment. I’m fine. It’s gonna go away in a couple of days. I _won’t_ relapse.”

“I know.” she promised. “I _know,_ Haymitch, but there is no reason to make this harder than it ought to be and…”

The doorbell rang, startling them both.

It was rare that anyone used it. People either knocked or came in uninvited, depending on their degree of acquaintance – the children, for instance, _never_ bothered to announce themselves.

“Waiting for someone?” Haymitch frowned, propping himself on the edge of the bathtub to get up.

They heard the sound of the front door opening. Snowball suddenly barked twice and then audibly _scampered_ up the stairs and to their bedroom.

Acting on instinct, Effie scooped April out of the tub, wrapped her in a towel and kept her close to her chest.

“Stay here.” Haymitch ordered her as he took a step toward the nursery only to come to a stop when a very familiar voice came from downstairs.

“Hello!” it sing-sang “Is anyone home?”

They exchanged a look.

Haymitch made a face. “Thought she wasn’t supposed to be here until Sunday?”

“Yes, _well_ …” Effie winced. “We are in the nursery, Mother!”

She carefully toweled April and placed her on the changing table while the familiar clicking of heels came closer and closer. It explained why Snowball had fled though, the dog didn’t have much love for her mother who always wanted to have him dyed one color or another.

“Truly, Euphemia, you should not raise your voice in the house.” Elindra chided her as she came in, in all her glorious fashionable self. Effie was almost blinded by the shocking crimson hair and the yellow dress. “Is this April?”

Haymitch opened his mouth – and she just _knew_ he was going to make a sarcastic comment about how they had kidnapped another baby to keep their daughter company – but he closed it very fast when Effie shot him a warning glare. He smirked. She glared harder.

Elindra distractedly kissed the air next to their cheeks and made a beeline for the baby. She leaned over April who didn’t seem to like the sudden looming menace. The baby started fussing, Haymitch tensed and Effie felt incredibly ill-at-ease when her mother’s long manicured faked nails gently poked their daughter in the stomach.  

Haymitch moved as if to snatch April away but seemed to remember his unsteady hands and tossed her a pleading glance. Effie was about to reach out when…

It had happened to both of them a few times already and they were mostly nonplussed by it now.

Elindra clearly wasn’t prepared for the spurt of pee that hit her square in the face.

She screamed at the same time as Haymitch started laughing so badly he had to hold his stomach. Effie felt the chuckles bubbling in her own throat but she quickly swallowed them back, taking Elindra’s place in front of the changing table when her mother stepped back.

It was stupid because she knew April was unharmed but she checked anyway, running her fingertips on the smooth skin of her tummy just to make sure.

“Stop laughing and help me, you horrid man!” Elindra screeched. Her mother was rubbing her hands against her face, making a mess of her make-up… It was too much for Effie who giggled, which only increased Haymitch’s hilarity and the Capitol’s ire. “Oh, _yes_ , Euphemia. How _funny_. You daughter _urinated_ on me. Please, _do_ laugh your full.”

She bit down on her bottom lip and handed her the towel.

“My apologies, Mother.” she said, taking pain to _sound_ sorry. “It can happen with a baby as I am sure you already know…”

“ _How_ would I know?” Elindra grumbled, clearly vexed. “Do you think I changed diapers perhaps? What are nannies for?”

“It’s mostly water.” Haymitch snickered, calming down a little. It warranted him a glare from her mother and he turned around to grab a baby outfit from the dresser. “You’re early.”

“And what a welcome party I get.” the Capitol retorted, clearly still not over that little mishap. “I could not wait anymore, I was too impatient. I left everything in Lyssa’s capable hands and boarded a train.”

“Did you have a pleasant journey?” Effie asked, quickly putting a diaper on April to avoid further incidents. “You should have warned us, we would have come and get you at the station.”

“Well, I thought that given the press situation and your stance on publicity, it would be best to travel _incognito_ …” her mother hesitated. “I _do_ hope my coming early is not an imposition?”

It wasn’t really a question and Effie took the grey and pink romper from Haymitch with a fond smile.

“Not at all.” she hummed. “You are welcomed at any time.”

Haymitch coughed and she elbowed him in the stomach.

Elindra pursed her lips tight but pretended not to have understood what he meant. “My suitcases are downstairs if you would be so kind as to carry them to the inn, Haymitch?”

That wasn’t really a question either.  

Effie shot a worried look at his hands but he shrugged and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I’ll get one of the kids to help.” he said in her ear and then leaned down to kiss April’s brow. “Behave for your Granny.”

Elindra emitted a horrified gasp. 

“Grandmother. _Grandmother._ ” Effie’s mother corrected. “I will not be called… _Granny_. How _undignified_.”

“We’ll see.” Haymitch dismissed with a smirk that told Effie he would have his way in the end no matter how much scheming he would need to do.

She almost rolled her eyes and remembered at the last moment that it would only warrant her a lecture.

“I am happy to see you.” Effie offered hesitantly, once Haymitch had left the room.

She heard him whistle once, followed by the obedient paddling of Snowball. It was good that he was taking him out, the dog hadn’t been getting the right amount of exercise lately, neither of them could really afford the time off. She was desperate to start exercising herself but with Haymitch being unwell, she hadn’t dared leaving the house for a run in the morning.

“And I, you.” Elindra replied with a soft smile that quickly disappeared. “But enough effusions. Let me look at her now that she is not at risk of… doing _messes_ on me. _Really_ , there is _no_ _doubt_ who her father is.” Effie pursed her lips to hide her amusement. The comment had more to do with the pee incident than with April’s features, she figured. “She _is_ rather lovely, isn’t she? Certainly _much_ more than some of those babies they use for those commercials. _Why_ , if you would audition her for…” Elindra abruptly fell silent. “Well, no, I suppose you would _not_.”

“I want her to have a normal childhood.” Effie snapped, a bit defensive. “I do not want her to feel as if she is not worth _everything_ in the world. Rejection for a child…” She shook her head and smiled at her daughter who, probably sensing her uneasiness, had started fretting. “Let’s finish to get you ready, my darling… Then we can catch up with _Granny_.”

“ _Grandmother_!” her mother hurried in correcting in the very same horrified tone she had used earlier. “Please, do _not_ indulge him with this joke.”

Elindra excused herself to fix her make-up – and to salvage her outfit. Effie took her time making sure April was perfectly dressed, added a hat so she wouldn’t be too cold and gave her daughter a genuine smile once she was done.

“You are the _most_ beautiful baby on the planet.” she informed her daughter very seriously. _“Rather lovely_.” She huffed. “Granny does not know _anything_ about babies.”

April chirped as if in agreement.

Elindra had still to reappear by the time she had put the kettle to boil in the kitchen for some tea. April was almost done feeding when she finally came back, her make-up and her outfit pristine. Effie had no doubt that she would find her dressing table reorganized when she would walk upstairs.

“ _Good gracious_!” her mother gasped when she walked in the kitchen. “ _Euphemia_! Do you _have_ do _that_ here? How improper! _Anyone_ could walk in.”

Effie was more amused by her reaction than anything. She was in _her own house_ after all. She could breastfeed anywhere she felt like it.

“The children do not come around at this time usually.” she dismissed. “And if they did and stumbled upon something they would rather not see, then _perhaps_ they will learn to knock.”

_The number of times_ Katniss and Peeta had almost walked on she and Haymitch having sex…

“ _Still_.” her mother insisted with a small frown, taking advantage of the kettle whistling to pour water into two mugs and adding bags of tea from the box abandoned on the counter, between a half empty box of formula and bottles that needed sterilizing. “You could make people uncomfortable.”

Effie held her tongue but thought no less. If she made people uncomfortable in her own house by feeding her own daughter, so be it.

April was done anyway and it wouldn’t be long before the baby fell back asleep.  She suggested they settled in the living-room.

“May I carry her?” Elindra asked when Effie stood up.

It was instinctive to cradle her daughter closer, to almost hunch over her as if to protect her from a threat… Her mother was so… _Capitol_. And Capitols and children…

Seeing Elindra outstretching her arms, ready to take _her baby_ away…

She took a step back, blinking hard against the memories of crowds of thousands Capitols screaming for tributes, victors and escorts alike…

“Later, if you do not mind.” she denied, managing to keep her voice calmer than she had feared. “I do not want her to get unsettled before her nap.”

Her mother looked a bit hurt but she hid it behind a polite smile. “Of course.”

The atmosphere was a bit uncomfortable and she busied herself placing April in her basinet, making sure she had everything she needed – and fretting for no real good reason other than the hope Haymitch would come back. He didn’t, of course. She suspected he would hide at the children’s as long as he could bear to be parted from their daughter – which, based on previous experience, wouldn’t be much more than an hour or two.

“I will send you a _lovely_ tea set.” Elindra said suddenly. “You cannot entertain with _mugs_. Cups and saucers _are_ the proper way. Like I taught you.”

To diffuse the awkwardness, Effie picked up the stack of pictures she had yet to file away and handed them to her mother.

“April was only a few hours old on this one.” she explained.

It seemed to pacify Elindra a little. Effie commented each picture, providing an exact account of April’s first days. Katniss had been liberal in her use of the camera and there were numerous ones of Haymitch looking at April with compromising silly expressions.

“He is taken with her.” her mother remarked.

“It was love at first sight.” Effie snorted. “He was barely fazed by the fact she was a girl after all.” Her fingers automatically reached for the butterfly necklace that was resting on her collarbone. “He is an amazing father.”

Elindra was studying her without seeming to, in that way of hers that had always had Effie slightly on edge, ready to dodge a rebuke.

“You look well, Effie.” her mother observed. “You look… fully _at ease_ with her.”

She sipped her tea slowly, to give herself time to consider how to answer. Hiding her feelings from her mother had always been a rule but lately they had made progress and while she wasn’t about to confide _everything_ to Elindra… She felt that she could confide _some_ things.

“It is… _difficult_ sometimes.” she admitted.

“Motherhood is _no_ walk in the park.” the Capitol triumphed, as if to tell her she had been wrong to blame her for failing at it.

“It is not _motherhood_ I find hard.” she denied, a bit guarded now. “It is… No matter. _Oh_ , look at this one. April’s first bottle!”

Haymitch looked so proud on that picture. Effie had been on the verge of tears all along but she had fought to keep a straight face, if only because he looked so happy to be able to feed her too. It had been what had reconciled her _slightly_ to the idea of complementing breastfeeding with bottles: the fact that Haymitch clearly _loved_ being more involved and being able to provide for their daughter too. Besides, April had gained enough weight in the last few days that Larcher had declared her cleared and freed of daily visits. They had regular appointments – because they were both paranoid – but their daughter was fine and in perfect health and it was all she could care about in the long run.

It took a long time for Elindra to look at the picture, her blue eyes lingered on her.

“Haymitch was young when he lost his parents, wasn’t he?” her mother asked, detached. “He inferred as much.”

“His father left a little after his brother was born.” she confirmed, feeling a bit guilty for discussing that. It wasn’t a secret exactly but… He was such a private man… “As for his mother and his little brother… Well, don’t you remember? The Capitol made it look like a _big_ tragedy…” Elindra waved her hand to profess her ignorance. She had never really paid attention to the Quell victor. She had never liked Haymitch. She had been rooting for the girl from One and the fact that _she_ had been so taken with the underdog had irritated her mother to no short extent. “He did not get to see his family again, they were dead when they sent him back to Twelve after his crowning.” she explained sadly, glancing toward the corridor to make sure he wouldn’t come back and walk in on that particular discussion. “There was a fire…”

“A _fire_?” Elindra repeated, her voice rising in horror. “What a _terrible_ way to die!”

Effie shook his head.

“What he did in the arena… It was deemed too… _Challenging_. Seeking the limits of the arena, using the force field, probably choosing to hold his ally’s hand while she was dying…” She paused and let out a long sigh. “They punished him for that. The fire was his punishment. That and his girlfriend being executed for poaching.” Her gaze automatically turned to the bassinet where April was sleeping. “His family… They meant _everything_ to him, you must understand. He was starving himself to feed them, risking to be whipped, taking tesseraes… And his girlfriend… He felt guilty about it. He still does to some extent. Their death broke him.”

It was rare for them to discuss the Capitol from _before_ , too aware that they had been on opposite sides of the war. She had a new understanding of what Elindra had truly known about the state of the country though and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was one thing to support a tyrant out of ignorance – she could only relate given how blind she had been in the beginning – it was entirely another to support a tyrant with all the cards in one’s possession. Her mother had chosen to do what she had done to better protect her daughters, Effie understood but… She wasn’t sure it sat well with her all the same. She had suffered too much because of it.

“He looks mended to me.” Elindra ventured carefully, following Effie’s gaze to the sleeping baby. “He is no longer the wreck we used to see on TV…”

“That was mostly a role he played, you know.” she confessed. “So they would leave him alone. An unappealing victor was… _preferable_. He was too handsome. The drinking was no pretence but the way he behaved in public was, most of the time.”

Talking about that made her thought back to old times and it wasn’t exactly a good feeling. She finished her tea in a long mouthful and stood up, picking up random books that had been abandoned around and placing them back in their proper place on the bookshelf if only to have something to do with her hands.  

It felt like another life. One that they had left behind but that was _looming_ still, waiting in the shadows to swallow them back. She knew they would never really stop being those people, the escort and the victor, but she _wished_ … They forgot sometimes. They lived in their bubble in the Village, with the children and now April, and, to some extent, Twelve was a sort of bubble too. But the rest of the country would never let them forget and perhaps it was fair but perhaps it was not. There would always be women in the street abruptly crossing to the other side with their children when they saw her walking toward them, there would always be whispers behind her back and speculations about her pardon… And that was in _Twelve_ where things were paradoxically _tame,_ thanks to years spent there and her victors’ protection. Outside of that bubble… Outside it was sneers and insults and threats from both camps. Monster or traitor, those were her only options.

She blinked, willing those bad memories away.

“He is still sober, I trust?” Elindra asked politely, as if she was simply enquiring about the weather and not a sensitive subject.

Effie was thankful for it, for the varnish of upper class behavior that allowed them the pretense of discussing heavy things with a light tone. District people would never have understood that but, to her, it was a _relief_. It allowed her to stay detached, it allowed her the refuge of her masks.

“It is not always easy for him but I think he would move mountains for April.” she smiled, going around the room, picking up things and putting some order back, careful not to make too much noise so the baby wouldn’t wake up. “He has been struggling lately though. The attention the press gives us…”

She let that sentence trail, certain that her mother was aware of the situation. Serious newspapers had moved on to bigger things but gossip rags and trash TV channels were still all over their baby’s birth. It was all about the _Abernathy girl_. Some were nice and some were not. Everything to sell their stories, including reminding the whole country of _her_ alleged crimes as an escort who had _mysteriously_ been pardoned.

Plutarch, of course, was suddenly unreachable.

He had sent a card to congratulate them. Haymitch had crumpled it and tossed it in the bin.

“Do you know…” Elindra hummed, slowly taking a graceful sip of tea. “I _still_ think there would have been better prospects for you out there but… I _must_ admit it is a good match. He is not a bad man, your husband. A little crude perhaps but that is to be expected from a District person, I suppose. I _do_ believe he will do his best to make right by you and the child though.”

“Of course, he will.” she scoffed. As if it was even a question.

“And _hopefully_ you will balance out his natural coarseness with proper upbringing for the child.” her mother nodded, almost to herself. “I must admit… I must admit I find myself… _warming_ _up_ to him. Your father is certainly no stranger to that. Why, he is fonder of that man than he was of _Rufus_ and yet Lyssa’s husband was…” She fell silent and clucked her tongue. “No matter. Suffice to say… I am glad to see you happy even if it is not the life I would have chosen for you.”

That was _huge_ coming from her and Effie found her eyes burning with tears she hastily blinked away.

“Thank you, Mother.” she whispered.

Elindra dismissed that with an impatient wave of her hand, focusing on the stack of pictures once more, uncomfortable with demonstrations of affection that were genuine and not dramatic.

For a few minutes, Effie went on picking up bibs and baby stuff that had somehow invaded the living-room – _and_ kicked Snowball’s toys back to his bed. She was so set on her sudden cleaning spree that she almost startled when Elindra spoke again.

“I met a man.”

She dropped everything she had in her arms in a cacophony of sounds and Aprils immediately wailed in protest.

And yet she stood there and stared at her mother, wide eyes.

To start with, she _really_ didn’t want to know about _that_ – she had long believed her parents had sought elsewhere what they couldn’t find within their marriage but she had always been happy _not_ to _ever_ think about that and since she had reunited with them they had looked almost… _in love_ – as in love as _they_ could be anyway – and…

Then, her mother sounded so serious that…

“Does Father know?” she asked, dread coiling in her belly.

Was that why Elindra had come earlier than planned? Had she and her father gotten in an argument about her extramarital affair? Were they going to get a divorce? _Now_? After more than forty years trapped in a loveless marriage? Was that new lover reason enough for them to split?

Her head was spinning.

She was _so_ not ready for her parents to get a divorce.

 People did _not_ divorce in their social class.

It simply was _not_ done without a _huge_ scandal and…

“ _Of course_ , he does. He was actually _eager_ to make his acquaintance.” Elindra mocked, placing her mug down on the table to walk to the bassinet. She shot her a curious glance but Effie was rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. Even when her mother bent down to pick up the child, she could only stare… “There, there… Ladies do _not_ make fusses like this, little one.”

Obviously, it was the moment Haymitch chose to come back.

He froze on the room’s threshold but took the situation in stride. His grey eyes studied her for a second, from her tense attitude to the mess at her feet, and then darted to the baby. His whole stance changed in a flash, he went from casual to defensive.

It seemed the sight of their daughter in a Capitol’s arms wasn’t triggering only for her.

It was clear to her he struggled not to dash over and tear the baby away from Elindra.

Her mother remained blissfully unaware of the look that passed between them, too busy smiling at April. Until she wrinkled her nose, at least.

“She needs to be changed.” Elindra declared.

Haymitch was next to her in a heartbeat. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Effie asked.

He didn’t answer immediately but once April was safely in his arms, he nodded. “I’m good for now. I’ll call you if…” He glanced at Elindra and stopped, keeping his attention on her. “I’m good.”

And he had missed taking care of their daughter.

She trusted Haymitch to know his limits and, more importantly, not to endanger their child so she smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. She crouched down to greet the dog who kept on nudging her leg with his head if only to keep a certain countenance.

She waited until he had left the room to clear her throat.

“Are you and Father… Are you _separating_?” she asked in a small frightened voice.

She had half a mind to rush to the phone and call Lyssa immediately.

Elindra blinked, her fake eyelashes so heavy it took almost a second for them to flutter back up. “Separating? What _in Panem_ are you talking about, Euphemia?” Her mother sat back down on the couch, looking entirely puzzled. “Why, we have _never_ been so close… And I do _not_ mind telling you your father has not been sleeping in his own bedroom since…”

“ _Please_!” she squeezed, mortified.

Her cheeks were crimson, she was sure, and she suddenly found the room unbelievably hot. She let go of Snowball to gather her hair in her hand and tie it up in a hasty bun on the top of her head.

It was starting to get too long, easily past her shoulders. Haymitch loved it but it was a hindrance and a few inches shorter wouldn’t hurt anyone. Going to a hairdresser was on her list of things to do when she could catch a breath. 

Elindra naturally eyed the new hairdo with distaste.

Effie didn’t care.

Compared to those _unnecessary_ revelations, her hair was of little consequences.

Her parents had been using separate bedrooms as long as she could remember and she _really_ didn’t want to know who slept where now and what it implied.

Then she thought she understood what her mother was saying and she _blanched_.

“ _Oh my_ … Are you and father and _that man_ …” she exclaimed, her voice pitching an octave higher.

Elindra’s eyes widened. “What are you _imagining_?!”

“Bad things.” Effie winced, covering her face with her hands, ignoring the repetitive nudges Snowball gave her knee. “Things I _never_ want to think about _ever_ again.”

“Euphemia, you are _utterly_ ridiculous!” her mother snapped, now slightly flushed herself. “How _improper_ to even bring that up. Living here is doing no good to your manners. Come and sit down.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to but she took her place back on the couch. The dog immediately rested his head on her knees and she petted him absentmindedly.

“You said you met a man.” she said defensively. “It seemed…”

“ _Were_ I to be unfaithful to my husband I would _hardly_ confide that fact to my daughter.” Elindra huffed. “Now _hush_ and _listen_. Do you remember my close friend Ceecee?”

Her mother had hundreds of ‘close friends’ and Effie had met all of them at one point or another. Most of them had been useful contacts when she had been looking for sponsors – not that any of them had ever supported Twelve though.

“The novelist?” she chanced, having the vague image of a mildly successful woman with dyed blue skin in mind.

“Exactly, yes.” her mother confirmed. “Well, she is writing a new book and she is doing some research on post-traumatic stress, you see. She went to a seminar at the university and I offered to go with her. You can imagine how _boring_ those things can be, I do not mind telling you she was glad for the company.”

“You went to a lecture on post-traumatic stress disorder…” Effie repeated, a bit confused by the direction the conversation was taking. “I do not…”

“ _Why_ , one of the speakers was that man I was telling you about.” Elindra cut her off – or rather _went on_ without acknowledging that Effie had spoken at all. “A very _nice_ Capitol young man, all things considered. He founded an association… You know how those people from the Districts and the government are… Or perhaps you do not since you have not been to the city in a while… Well, there is a strong feeling that Capitol voices are silenced and their part in the war dismissed. The ones who were on the rebels’ side, that is…”

Elindra was babbling fast, on a gossipy tone that hardly fit the subject, and Effie was having trouble making sense of it.

“An association for what?” she frowned.

“To bring awareness about Capitol citizens who have been imprisoned and tortured during the war.” her mother said, very fast. Effie tensed but before she could say anything more, Elindra continued. “He was a victim himself, you see. Although he does not like the term.”

“It is debasing.” she commented without really meaning to. “ _Victim_. It is so… _passive_.”

There had been nothing passive about what had happened in those cells.

“Yes, that is, in essence, what he said.” her mother nodded, seemingly unperturbed by her sudden tension. “He was a spy or whatever the correct term is. He claimed to work for Plutarch Heavensbee as a source of information and he was captured a little after the arena exploded, just like you.”

Effie licked her lips. She focused on petting Snowball, her fingers shaking a little.

“Mother, I really do _not_ think…” she said slowly.

“He gave an account of what had happened to him.” her mother insisted. “Ceecee had to step out. It was… _very_ detailed.”

“Mother.” she insisted.

“He talked of whips and beatings and…” Elindra continued. Effie grabbed her wrist and she _finally_ fell silent, her breath a bit short. When she looked at Effie, her eyes were lost and desperate. She looked her age suddenly despite the facelifts and the plastic surgeries. “Did I turn you away after they did those _terrible_ things to you, Effie? Did I…”

Her mother’s voice broke and she was very afraid, all of sudden, that Elindra would start to cry. She had never seen her mother cry before. _Never_.

“It is alright.” she said and she was surprised to find that she meant it.

“No, it is _not_.” Elindra hissed. “The things the press prints about you… And they don’t know… They don’t…” Her mother shook her head. “The things that man described…”

“You should not have gone.” she sighed. “It upset you. You…”

“Upset me?” Elindra scowled. “What _upsets_ _me_ is that those butchers may have done the same to _you_. What _upsets me_ is those scars you think I am not aware of.  What _upsets me_ is that _I_ failed you when you _needed_ me. I did not know… I did not _believe_ …”

“Mother.” she whispered, squeezing her wrist. “You _couldn’t_ know. That was partly my fault, I could have told you.”

“You _tried_ to.” her mother scoffed. “I did not want to _listen_. I was only preoccupied with finding a new ruling position in that new world. I was angry with you for siding with those District people, for openly being seen with that man…” She shook her head. “With _Haymitch_. I was…”

She hugged her.

Elindra was so shocked she stopped talking and stood rigid.

A second passed. Two…

Effie started to rethink her spontaneous move, the side hug was awkward enough that she felt stupid. She cleared her throat and started to let go… Only to find herself in her mother’s surprisingly tight – if a little hesitant – embrace. She breathed in the familiar smell of her cosmetics products, of the same expensive perfume Elindra had always worn, and a lump formed in her throat. She felt like a child again.

Hugs had been rare and short-lived but they had always been treasured.

She kept expecting her mother to collect herself and push her away but Elindra awkwardly freed her hair from the tie instead and combed the wild curls with her fingers.

“He said it was important to put words on what happened.” Elindra whispered after a while. “To not let it _fester_. Did you… Have you talked about it with someone? A professional, perhaps. Or…”

“I talk about it with Haymitch when I need to.” she muttered, feeling very strange.

The whole situation was strange. Her mother wasn’t the caring type and this right now… Whatever that man had said must have shaken her, she thought, enough that she had given up on a company event to cross the country.

“Good. Good.” Elindra nodded, a bit stern. “That man was not… I suppose he was not as important as you were. I… I imagine it was _worse_ for you. I know you probably do not want to talk about it and I respect that, darling, but I need to know… I _need_ to know… _How_ _bad_ was it? Because when you _said_   they had tortured you… I was _horrified_ , naturally, but I do not think I _quite_ realized… What that man said, you must understand…”

Her mother’s fingers were almost frantic in her hair, she tugged on knots and it hurt a little. Some pain was good though, it helped her ground herself, just as the smell did. It was on the smell of her perfume that she focused not to let the memories swallow her whole.

“I was not human anymore.” she mumbled. “They took my humanity away from me. I was just… a _thing_ by the time Haymitch found me. Just a plaything. A toy for them to pass their frustration on. A dog.” She took a deep breath. “The physical pain wasn’t the worst. The worst was… being denied the right to be a person.”

“I see.” Elindra said.

She _couldn’t_ see.

She _couldn’t_.

However, Effie didn’t dispute her that claim.

“I am glad you came.” she offered, more sincerely than she had when her mother had first showed up earlier. She doubted she had been to that lecture only to keep company to her friends, there were always hidden motives to Elindra Trinket’s actions. She was too much of a player for it to be otherwise.

“I am glad you let me.” Elindra snorted, in an uncharacteristic show of honesty.

Haymitch made a lot of noises coming down the stairs and Effie sat straighter. Elindra’s eyes were suspiciously shiny but a few flutters of her fake eyelashes remedied the situation. She immediately gushed over the baby when he carried April back in the room.

More surprisingly, Haymitch let her.

One look was enough for Effie to know he had heard most of if not the whole conversation. He glanced at the baby monitor on the fireplace’s mantle that was most likely on. She smiled to tell him she was alright. He still stayed close to her all evening. He made an obvious effort to be nicer to her mother and Elindra replied in kind. The children weren’t exactly thrilled to have her mother back in town but Katniss was polite enough and Peeta was his usual charming self.

All in all, it was a nice day.

Still, Effie was relieved when everyone left and she was able to collapse on the couch at the end of the day. She was even happier when Haymitch placed April on her knees and sat next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Snowball didn’t want to be left out and curled up on Haymitch’s other side.

It was _perfect_.

She played with April’s little hand for a while, happy every time her daughter closed her fist around her finger…

“When my father arrives… We should go out.” she suggested. “Have lunch at Sae’s maybe.”

“Sure.” he shrugged. “I’ll stay home with April.”

“No…” she sighed. “I mean _all of us_.” They hadn’t even used the pram yet despite the nice weather. “We cannot keep her locked in here forever. It is not fair. She needs to be introduced to the world.”

He didn’t shoot down the idea at once but she could tell he was reluctant.

“You know that means they might get pictures of her, yeah?” he asked. “It’s stupid to think they won’t try.”

“We will do our best to protect her face.” she promised. “But… I think it is something we will have to learn how to live with. She will grow up and it is equally stupid to hope they will get tired of talking about us. We cannot keep her a prisoner in the house just because…”

Her voice faltered.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “It’s not the same, sweetheart.”

“I know.” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I know but… I think it is time. I want to go out with my daughter, I do not want to be afraid anymore. We cannot let them make us afraid.”

“Worse comes to worse, I’m setting Katniss loose on them.” he warned. “A few arrows should keep them away…”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him, making sure April was still steady on her knees.

“Perhaps you should tell her to bring her bow…” she agreed. “That should be intimidating enough.”

“That’s a plan.”  he snorted. For a few minutes, they were silent and Effie’s eyelids started drooping. It startled her a little when he spoke. “You’re okay?”

She didn’t need to ask what he was talking about.

She took the time to think it over before nodding. “I think I am. It did not… It did not _upset_ me, really. I was more upset that _she_ was so upset.”

“She’s becoming alright.” he commented. “For a Capitol.”

“I think she is becoming alright for a _mother_.” she remarked. “I think… I think she _really_ wants to try.”

“Yeah…” he nodded and then smirked at April because the conversation was a bit too serious for his tastes. “Hear that, shrimp? _Granny_ ’s becoming alright.”

“She will _kill_ you if April calls her like that when she’s older.” she chuckled.

There was a twinkle in his eyes that told her everything she needed to know. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

What else could she have done but kiss him?


	39. 17 Days

Haymitch was aware he was strutting but he couldn’t stop himself.

He carefully pushed the pram down the streets that led to Sae’s restaurant, proud as a peacock, to the others’ obvious amusement. He was suspecting Effie and Katniss were exchanging mocking looks behind his back but he didn’t care.

Not when every acquaintance they crossed path with took a look inside the pram and declared April to be beautiful. And she _was_ beautiful. Effie had dressed her up for her first official outing. She was wearing a white dress with pink glittery flowers that matched her pacifier and her tiny boots.

So far, there had only been one incident to report. A paparazzi who had been hiding near the entrance to the Village and had ended up with an arrow wedged in his camera for his trouble. Haymitch wasn’t sure what had freaked out the guy most: being shot at by the Mockingjay or Snowball jumping on him, all snarls and growls. The dog hadn’t _attacked_ but it had been a close thing, at Haymitch’s whistle he had simply snatched the camera with its jutting arrow from the man’s hands and had sauntered back to spit it at Katniss’ feet.

The girl had sighed and reluctantly patted his head. The dog would win her over yet, Haymitch could feel it.

Needless to say both Tadius and Elindra had been appalled by their way of handling the situation but Katniss had simply shouldered her bow with a shrug. As for Effie, she had ushered her parents down the slope, chatting with her newly arrived father, dismissing any of their warnings about possible lawsuits for assault. None of the vultures would _dare_ drag them in front of a court of law. Not with Plutarch Heavensbee at their back.

There had been more reporters but they had had the good taste of staying _far away_. There would be pictures in the gossip rags probably but, with some luck, the pram would shield the baby. And Effie had been right, it _had_ been time to take April out.

Their daughter was certainly enjoying it.

Her blue eyes were wide open, her attention mainly on him since it was all she could see. She was sucking on her pacifier and making some noises from time to time – the kind he and Effie had decided meant she was happy.

When Effie looped her arms around one of his, leaving her parents to their discussion, he smirked even harder.

“You are being _far_ too smug.” she grinned, looking very pleased herself. “We will irritate people who do not like us.”

“They can go to hell.” he snorted. “I’ve got the most perfect baby in Panem and the prettiest wife. I’m allowed to be smug.”

She laughed, leaning into his side before reaching inside the pram to adjust the light blanket on April’s legs.  “Look at your Papa being all smooth, darling… And they say he cannot be charming…”

“Can be charming, alright.” he smirked. “Where do you think she gets it from?”

His teasing was answered with some light bumping against his shoulder and a shake of her head.

“And off goes the charm, April. Did you see it fly away?” she cooed at their daughter. “A charming man would have said you take after your Mama.”

Haymitch decided it should have been illegal to be as happy as he was right then.

The moment Sae spotted them, she was over in a flash. She insisted on settling them outside so they could enjoy the sun and pushed several tables closer so they could all sit together. Everyone was welcomed warmly – except for Elindra – and the old woman cooed and awed at the baby long enough that Haymitch felt like he was going to burst with pride.

He knew he might have been a little too obvious when Katniss and Peeta started laughing like the two annoying brats they were. Snowball settled next to the pram, always watchful over April, and eventually rested his head on Haymitch’s foot when he sat down at the very end of the table so he could keep an eye on his daughter who was falling asleep.

They were a loud party.

The food was good but clearly not up to Tadius and Elindra’s standards. It was funny if only to hear the Capitol woman argue with Sae. There was some debate going on between Tadius and Peeta about medical discoveries that still weren’t within everyone’s reach and reserved to those wealthy enough to pay for it. Peeta was advocating that it was unfair while Tadius argued that the country didn’t have enough funds to support a medical insurance system to cover procedures as expensive as the ones they were talking about.

The topic interested Haymitch and he would have loved to cut in but his whole attention was on his daughter. When she stirred, he picked her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Effie touched his arm and he handed her over. They kept doing that, passing her back and forth between them, still adjusting to the fact this was _real_ …

“It’s time for her bottle.” Effie reminded him, pushing her sunglasses on her head.

They were eating dessert and most of them had finished so he almost suggested to wait until they were back at the house but, truth be told, nobody seemed in a hurry to leave and it was such a nice day… Even Elindra wasn’t as irritating. Or maybe he was simply getting used to her.

He rummaged in the diaper bag until he found the bottle they had packed and handed it to her.

Tadius cleared his throat. “May I, Euphemia?”

Effie looked taken aback and almost immediately cradled April closer to her chest in an instinctive protective move. “You want to feed her?”

“Have you lost your mind, Tadius?” Elindra huffed. “You have _never_ fed an infant.”

“What can I say, this District makes me bold.” the Capitol man declared, almost sheepish. “I would understand if you would rather do it yourself, of course. As you mother pointed out I am not skilled in that department…”

Effie searched Haymitch’s eyes. He shrugged, leaving the decision to her. She seemed to hesitate and then stood up to walk around the table. Katniss immediately gave her her own seat, taking the chair Effie had vacated instead. His wife was careful when she placed the baby in Tadius’ arms, making sure he was supporting April’s head adequately.

Since he had arrived the previous night, her father hadn’t requested to hold his granddaughter. Haymitch had written it off as a Capitol quirk. Elindra had picked April up a few times but the woman never carried her for long. A few minutes at best and then she handed it over to Effie or Haymitch. Aside for gushing over how precious April was, she didn’t seem to know what to do with a baby and she didn’t look very interested in _learning_. She had told them at least five times that they should get a nanny and had finally made her peace with their refusal when Effie had gotten so upset she had almost burst out in tears at the mere thought of a stranger taking care of their child.

She had only given birth a little over two weeks earlier and she was still dealing with that. Haymitch had learned to avoid certain touchy subjects. She was emotional about the strangest things.

He distractedly fiddled with the cat ragdoll, watching Effie laugh softly while she guided her father’s hands. Tadius seemed afraid of hurting April somehow.

The baby was a trooper. As long as there was food, she wasn’t peaky about where it came from.

Conversations started again but Haymitch didn’t engage, trying to remember the last time he had felt so relaxed with such a big group of people, outside in the sun, carefree and relaxed.

This was… _good_.

“They’re not the worst.” Katniss muttered as an aside clearly meant for his ears only. “For Capitols. Well, her mother isn’t really nice but…” She rolled her eyes. “She’s growing on me, I guess.”

“They’re family now, I guess.” he answered on the same tone. He was the first surprised by that answer.

Katniss’ eyebrows shot up but, in the end, she wrinkled her nose. “They stuck around this time. So… Yeah, maybe.”

Tadius looked elated to have managed his first bottle feeding but Haymitch wasn’t sure it was the action that had delighted him as much as Effie’s obvious pleasure at seeing him make an effort. The man held April a little while longer and only handed her back when she started fussing. Effie automatically rubbed her tummy, meeting Haymitch’s gaze over the table.

April had been crying after they fed her for a few days now. Larcher insisted it was nothing concerning, that colic wasn’t uncommon, that it would fade eventually…

He hated seeing his daughter in pain.

April was loud and she was obviously tired of fresh air so they all stood up. Effie kept the baby in her arms, he stuck close to them, letting Peeta push the empty pram.

“I know, sweetie.” she hummed, pressing soothing kisses to their daughter’s brow. “I know it hurts…”

Haymitch wrapped his arm around Effie’s shoulders and gently rubbed April’s stomach. It wasn’t that easy a thing to do as they walked but they had become very skilled at it. Their daughter only stopped crying when they walked around and rubbed her belly in a particularly gentle way.

They bumped into the Clarkes as they passed by the bakery. Effie and Elindra immediately stopped to chat with Eileen – the Capitol woman complimented the children in a very hypocritical tone – and Peeta, who had been talking about his business with Tadius, was soon trapped in a conversation with Liam about increasing the daily amount of baked goods the boy delivered to the coffee shop. Peeta would need to hire help soon, Haymitch figured, business was good.

“Haymitch, I have a favor to ask you.” Tadius said suddenly, leaving the boy to his discussion. “Do you know where the old mines were and would you take me there?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What do you want to go there for?”

“The government is about to put the lands for sale.” Effie’s father explained.

“It’s Swiss cheese down there.” he commented. “Not sure you can build anything.”

Tadius dismissed that with a wave of his hand, the black gemstone he always wore on his middle finger catching the light. “I still would like to inspect them.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged and reached out to tap Effie’s shoulder. Effie had been in the middle of a sentence and shot him a dark glare. Interrupting someone was _rude_. He smirked in answer. “Your dad wants to see the old mines, I’ll be back quick.”

“Yes, alright.” she huffed, irritated with his disrupting of her conversation. “Take Snowball with you. He needs some proper exercising.”

He pecked her lips just to annoy her further, brushed his fingers against April’s cheek and nodded to Eileen before steering Tadius _away_ from Elindra and her high pitched voice.

“What kind of business do you do?” he asked, realizing a bit too late that he had never asked. Effie had always mentioned _business_ without going into the specifics and Tadius took obvious pride in his company but Haymitch had no clue what the company actually did.

“Oh, a little of everything really.” the man smiled. “My grandfather was an architect, the company was specialized in residential design when he started it. Then, he took on an associate who was into interior design and the business really took off. It did not flourish until my father came to work into the company though. He bought a few smaller architecture companies, made enough money to buy my grandfather’s associate’s shares… Then, he started investing in other fields. Food service industry, leisure, fashion, private clinics… We have shares everywhere now.” The more Tadius talked, the lighter the spring in his steps became. “When my father came into the company it was declining, when he left it to me, it was an _empire_.”

The Capitol obviously had a great admiration for his father.

“He sounds like a brilliant man.” he ventured carefully.

“He was.” Tadius nodded. “Business is ruthless. I learned more from watching him close deals than I did at university. He taught me how to deal with sharks.” The man chuckled. “Although, I trust you had experience in that department yourself.”

He meant sponsors.

Haymitch focused on the familiar narrow streets that used to lead to the Seam. “More than I’d like.”

“My father was a great man.” the Capitol nodded slowly, as if to himself. “He was not pleased about my marrying Elindra. It created a rift between us I never quite managed to breach.”

“Really?” he frowned. “Why?”

_Aside from the obvious_ , he didn’t say. Elindra was a silly, shallow and greedy woman. But most women in the city – hell, most _people_ – were like that.

“She did not have… the _pedigree_.” Tadius offered tactfully. “My father built our financial empire and hoisted us to the upper class but… People never let you forget where you come from. Money is a good deterrent to their snobbism though.”

“Wasn’t she rich too?” he frowned. “Thought she was an actress or something…”

He was sure Effie had mentioned that.

“She was and she had made quite a name for herself.” the Capitol nodded. “She was a _star_ … So beautiful… More beautiful than Lyssa in her prime by far. She was… breathtaking. She could bat an eyelash and all the men around her threw themselves at her feet.” Tadius laughed, a little bitter. “I begged her to marry me. I loved her, you see. I loved her _madly_. I realized only too late that what _she_ loved was my money.”

Haymitch winced and kicked a pebble. “Sucks.”

“Quite.” Tadius snorted, burying his hands in the pockets of his suit. “It was stipulated in our marriage contract that we were supposed to have one child. I pleaded for another for five years. She had made Lyssandra her sole property and I was hoping for a boy. In the end, all it took was agreeing to buying a country house. She refused to carry the baby though so we paid a surrogate.”

He was starting to feel ill-at-ease. He liked Effie’s father but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know all those details about her parents’ marriage. Or Effie’s birth.

It made him angry that Elindra hadn’t even wanted to carry her, to _grow_ her. Effie was… Effie was _perfect_. _Extraordinary_. And the fact that Elindra hadn’t been able to see that from the start, the fact that she had chosen to…

“We’re almost there.” he said, hoping to change the subject. That part of the District hadn’t really been touched yet. Dust puffed in clouds as they walked and Tadius muttered about the state of his shoes and pants.

“Are you certain this is quite safe?” the Capitol asked when they left the town behind for good.

Haymitch supposed he hadn’t often wandered into the wild – if you could call _that_ the wild.

“Bears don’t wander this far.” he shrugged, whistling when Snowball disappeared from sight. “Some wild cats do but they’re afraid of humans, it’s really not that dangerous. Polecats though, they’re the real plague.” He abruptly stopped when he caught sight of the familiar landmarks. “We’re here.” Tadius stepped forward but Haymitch held him back. The mines had collapsed during the bombings and it was a real landfill still. Vegetation had grown, making it look like green craters. “I’m not sure the ground’s stable enough. The Mayor’s been petitioning the government to do something for two years. Kids know not to play around here but teenagers are often stupid.” 

He would know. He had hung around the abandoned mines with his friends often enough in his youth despite the warnings.

“We had the same situation in Two.” Tadius declared. His voice has lost the friendly touch, he sounded professional now. He was inspecting the place with a serious gaze, calculating… “We filled the empty cavities underground with cement. It was costly but worth the investment.”

It would beat having a potential cave-in on their hands. Now that April was there… He was hyper aware of Twelve’s every danger.

“What do you want to build?” he asked curiously.

“I would have to come back with a few experts.” the Capitol hummed distractedly, before pointing out to a large section of rocky ground. “From here to here… We would build a residential area. Something similar to the Victors Village but more modern. We did the same in Two and Seven and it was very successful. Twelve is a growing District but people are reluctant to move in because they like their comfort.”

“I like my District small.” Haymitch grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Tadius actually laughed. “Have no fear, I do not think it will ever become as big as Two or Four.” He pointed to another place, a little away from the residential area, closer to town. “I was thinking about building a convalescent home here, they are always interested in secluded locations. It is better for patients, I believe.”

“You think people will come to _Twelve_ to be treated?” he frowned. “Thirteen’s not that far…”

“Thirteen does not have fresh air or a beautiful view like this one.” Tadius dismissed. “It is all about marketing, Haymitch. We could implement some sort of agreement with the Mayor… We could grant use of our medical machines in exchange for some financial arrangement… That would benefit both us and the District.” The Capitol nodded thoughtfully. “And, naturally, I will have to look into empty buildings in town itself.”

“Are you taking over Twelve?” he asked, half-joking and half-apprehensive.

“Twelve is lacking a good sweetshop.” the businessman countered. “It won’t be said my granddaughter will live somewhere without a sweetshop. The _Candy Paradise_ franchise will do very well. I was thinking about having one of the _Children’s Kingdom_ center implemented too.”

Haymitch shook his head. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, it is _the_ _best thing_ for children.” Tadius explained, gesturing to the path they had taken so they would head back to town. Haymitch followed after making sure Snowball was sticking around. “Why, the franchise is almost twenty years old now and still popular. It is a daycare center with games and trained nannies… There are different rooms and activities depending on ages and interests… There are different fees depending on if you want them to take care of your child daily or if you are just leaving them there for the afternoon… Children love it. It has been a big hit in _every_ District we set shop in.” Haymitch wasn’t sure. It sounded like a Capitol thing to him. They were always eager to get their kids off their hands. “Timotheo and Bryden love it. It is all they talk about. When they talk to me, that is. I am sure April will love it too.”

Haymitch didn’t commit. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings but April didn’t need to live in a small version of the Capitol. That wasn’t how they did things around here.

He would have to tell Effie to talk to him, he decided.

“I would have to visit Twelve more often.” the Capitol added, almost as an afterthought. Despite its casualness, Haymitch doubted it was so innocent.

“You’re always welcome, Tadius.” he said sincerely enough. “You don’t need to buy any land to come around.”

“I am afraid Elindra will insist on accompanying me.” the man replied and Haymitch winced a little. He wasn’t sure if Effie’s father had caught it or not but the Capitol remained silent for a few minutes. When he talked, he was deadly serious. “She is not heartless.”

“That’s _really_ not my business.” he sighed.

“You are our son-in-law, Haymitch.” Tadius argued. “I _do_ believe it makes it your business.” He wasn’t sure how to disagree with that so he simply shrugged. The Capitol cleared his throat. “She was… _misguided_ for a long time. I told you my father did not approve of our match.”

“’Cause she was interested.” he guessed.

“No.” Tadius denied. “It would not have been the first marriage where money was a third participant. Elindra is clever, she has perfect manners and she was famous. Three things he would have loved in any other potential daughter-in-law. The problem laid elsewhere… Has Effie ever talked to you about her grandfather on her mother’s side?”

“No much.” he hesitated. “Just that she loved him a lot. Took her ice skating and such… Let her be a real kid.”

“Yes, Timotheo was quite… _controversial_.” Tadius remarked. “He was against the Games and for a good reason, you see. Before the first rebellion… Well, he was the eldest son of one of the wealthiest families in the city but he fell in love with a girl from a District. It wasn’t forbidden yet although very much frowned upon.”

“Effie’s grandmother was a District girl?” he asked, stunned. She had never told him that.

“He was forced to choose between the girl and his fortune and he chose the girl.” Tadius sighed. “Elindra grew up in poverty.”

“For a Capitol.” he snorted, not even trying to stop himself. “We don’t have the same definition.”

“I suppose not.” Tadius amended. “However, it was terrible for her. She resented her father a lot for his choices and loathed her mother’s sometimes couth behavior. She had ambitions and she fought to get to the top. Her origins, though… My father never forgave them.”

“Can’t really feel sorry for her.” Haymitch replied. “I’m sorry, Tadius, but it’s…”

“She has always been terribly afraid of falling back into poverty, of becoming a nobody again.” the Capitol interrupted him. “The rebellion… You must understand the climate after that was difficult. Capitol companies were shunned by the government, business was uncertain, social circles were even more treacherous… Elindra is used to being queen. She doesn’t…”

“Doesn’t justify kicking Effie out the door.” he growled. “You have _any_ idea the state she was in the day she came here?”

He didn’t like remembering.

Drenched from the rain, two suitcases, a frayed pink coat… He had opened his door and had thought for a second that she looked like a drown rat. She had started crying before he had even stepped aside to let her in.

He had spent thirty minutes trying to comfort her while getting her into dry clothes. He hadn’t been sure how long it had been since she had eaten a proper meal, she had looked famished, almost feverish…

She had been frantic, sobbing about how much in debts she was, about how the government had taken everything she owned and how she had tried to keep afloat…

He could still remember it perfectly. The way her fingers had clenched the mug of tea he had brewed for her, the tears that kept falling into the liquid, the slight shaking of her shoulders…

_“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.”_ she had finally confessed in a broken breath.

He had been terrified. _Terrified_. Because he was certain she hadn’t been talking of living in the Capitol at the time. It had been _living_ she couldn’t bear anymore.

The first few weeks had been hard.

He had kept triggering flashbacks and panic attacks without meaning to. He had asked the kids not to come around without warning anymore because she hated them seeing her like that. It had taken _so long_ for them to find a routine, some sort of rhythm…

He had paid off her debts, of course. She had promised to repay him but she had been in no state to find a job and it hadn’t really been a problem or a priority. With that weight off her shoulders, she had been able to focus on herself a little more.

It had been tough, though.

So, so tough.

He wouldn’t say she had recovered now but she was so much better than when she had first showed up.

“I was not home when Effie came that day.” Tadius confessed. “I would not have let Elindra… We could not take Effie in. Lyssa was already living with us and she was far too angry with her sister. Lyssa needed us.”

“So did Effie.” he spat.

“Yes, I understand that now. At the time…” the Capitol shook his head, lowering his voice a little because they were entering town again and there were people going about their own business in the street. “I would have found her a small apartment. Somewhere to live.”

“That wasn’t what she needed.” he scoffed. “She needed…”

“We did _not_ know, Haymitch.” Effie’s father cut him off harshly. “As far as we were concerned, she had been arrested and that was _it_. It took almost a year for rumors about what really happened to the Capitols who had been arrested to float around. The rebels shot them down. And by then…” He sighed. “The war was an electroshock for Elindra. She realized just how important we were to her. She loves her daughters, you must understand. I do think she thought Effie would come back after a week or two… I think she was trying to give her a lesson by turning her away… In her mind, Effie would come back, we would find her a proper husband and we would put all this nonsense behind us. She never expected Effie to stay in Twelve with you.”

“You don’t know your daughter.” he declared coldly. “Never made the effort. And that’s _sad_ ‘cause she’s really worth knowing.”

Tadius’ jaw clenched but he didn’t outright dispute the point. Maybe because he knew Haymitch was right.

“Capitols are starting to speak out about what happened to them during the war under Snow’s regime.” Tadius said. “They want to be heard. President Paylor seems to be favorable to that, she has been… She has been _good_ in dealing with the Capitols but there is a strong opposition, people who would like us to remain the villains and who would gladly make second-class citizens of us.”

“She’ll sort it out.” he dismissed. “She’s a good woman.”

“She is a better President than I expected.” the man granted. “But that is not… Has Effie told you about a certain conversation she had with her mother recently?”

He made a face. If Effie’s father was talking about the conversation he had accidentally overheard through the baby monitor… “Look…”

“Elindra was _frantic_ when she came home from that lecture.” Tadius said in a rush. “She piled clothes in her suitcase without properly folding any or asking for the maid’s help. It took… It took me _a long time_ to calm her down enough to make sense out of what she was saying…”

“Tadius.” he cut him off but the man didn’t seem to be able to stop.

“The things that man said…” the Capitol shook his head. “When I learned Effie had been hurt, I… I was furious naturally  but I thought I had made my peace with it because she seemed so much better now but… _The things that man said_ , Haymitch… I need to know…”

“No.” he interrupted firmly. “You _don’t_. ‘Cause if she wanted you to know, she would have told you.”

Elindra had been better in not prying.

Tadius though, he had the determined look of a businessman who wouldn’t take no for an answer. “She does not need to know you told me.”    

“Yeah, I don’t keep secrets.” Haymitch scoffed. “That’s not how we do things.”

“What if it was April?” the Capitol snapped. “Could you live without knowing if it was April?”

Haymitch rubbed his face, almost relieved to see the familiar slope leading to the Village. That wasn’t a question he had ever entertained and he had been happier that way.

“It’s not fair what you’re asking.” he argued. “We’re… We’re _friends_ , you and me, but she’s my _wife_ and I won’t betray her trust.”

“I am not asking you to betray her trust.” Tadius insisted. “I am simply asking you to give a father some peace.”

He chuckled bitterly. “There’s no peace to be found there.”

“Most of the Peacekeepers have been released, do you know this?” Effie’s father asked. “A case was made that they had simply been soldiers obeying orders. They tried and executed senior officers but the others are _free_. How many of those who hurt my daughter are living a peaceful life in whatever District they chose to hide in, Haymitch? How many?”

Snowball bumped against his leg, probably sensing his distress. He crouched to pet the dog, hiding his shaking fingers in his fur. He had been doing much better in the last few days but, suddenly, he was craving a drink again.

“I killed him.” he said slowly, in a quiet voice that didn’t carry very far.

“I beg your pardon?” Tadius frowned.

“When we arrived at the prison, the rebels had just taken it. I had been looking for Effie for a while, we didn’t know if she was even there, I just… I don’t know.” he shrugged. “That guard… The moment he saw me, there was no shutting him up. The Peacekeepers had surrendered, they were supposed to be safe from immediate repercussions but that one…” He closed his eyes and he was back there. The smell of powder in the air, the smoke that came from the still fuming breach in the wall… The Peacekeepers parked in one corner of the courtyard and the rebels walking around in their grey uniforms, trying to figure out how to sort through the prisoners… Some had been Capitols, some hadn’t… There had been no quick way of deciding who was an ally and who was a foe. The silver lighter in the man’s hand, the goading, the _details_ …. He had often wondered if the guard had wanted to die or if he had just been _that_ sick. Torturing people for a living didn’t make for sane people, probably. “I killed him.”

“Was it painful?” Tadius asked.

“Oh, yeah.” he snorted bitterly. He had unleashed his inner demon for that one, the beast he had carefully kept contained since his arena… He had let it lose on that man. “The things he claimed to have done to her… And he wouldn’t _shut_ _up_ … He wouldn’t…”

Snowball licked his face with a small whimper and he blinked, coming back to reality. He had been griping the dog’s fur far too tight and he petted him in apology. He was rewarded with a forgiving bump of his head.

“Good.” the Capitol hissed. “I abhor violence, you must understand, but there are _circumstances_. I wish I could have done it myself.”

“It doesn’t matter, you know.” he sighed, standing up and clicking his fingers so Snowball would stick close to his leg. “Revenge. Doesn’t change anything.”

Tadius didn’t look convinced by that but Haymitch supposed that it was because he had never killed before. He couldn’t understand.

“Was she raped?” It was a horrified whisper, probably the Capitol’s greatest fear. It had been his too once upon a time, before he had realized what they had done to her was maybe equally as bad if not worse.

Haymitch started walking because he couldn’t talk about that standing still. It filled him with too much _rage_ …

“Don’t think so.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Always said no. But…” He hesitated. “If she was, she won’t tell _me_. She thinks she needs to protect me.” He shook his head. “I really don’t think so though. They probably threatened her with it but it wasn’t their kind of sadism.”

“What was it, then?” Tadius insisted. “You said too much now. I won’t tell Effie and I won’t tell Elindra. But I need to know, Haymitch. I cannot lie awake another night and wonder what was done to my little girl.” Imagination was sometimes worse than the truth, he understood that. He had spent months in Thirteen thinking about what they had been doing to her. The Capitol grabbed his arm just as they walked through the iron gates. “She told Elindra they took her humanity away. I thought that meant she had been… If it was not sexual assault, then what?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the broken fountain in the distance.

“She didn’t tell me _everything_. She told me _some_. Peeta and Jo said a few things. There’s stuff I pieced together from her medical files.” he admitted. “Can’t promise I’m right about everything.”

“Tell me.” Tadius demanded again.

“Let’s sit.” he suggested. He waited until the Capitol man was sitting on the edge of the fountain – to his obvious distaste because it would leave stains on his already dirty pants – to talk. He paced. There was no way _he_ was sitting through this. He paced back and forth in front of the man. “From what I understood, it started with pretty basic stuff. They arrested her, roughened her up, scared her… When she didn’t give them any information, they stripped her off her clothes, wig and make-up and forced her into a prisoner uniform. They taunted her.”

“Because she has always taken pride in her beauty.” Tadius surmised.

“Yeah.” he confirmed. “It’s standard interrogation tactics. I don’t think it took too long for them to understand she didn’t know anything. They kept on taunting her, telling her I didn’t really…” He shook his head. “They wanted her broken so they could use her to get Peeta and Johanna to talk. They didn’t call her by her name anymore, she was… She was _Abernathy’s bitch_. They punished her if she didn’t answer to that name.” He licked his lips and buried his hands in his pockets because they were shaking too much. “They tortured her in front of Peeta and Johanna. Whips, knives, fists… You name it, they used it on her.”

Tadius took a sharp intake of breath and Haymitch wondered if he was going to be sick. He had been sick when he had found her. As soon as he had been sure the doctors were taking care of her, he had staggered to the closest bathroom and he had thrown up.

“The victors were rescued.” her father scowled. “Why wasn’t she…”

“Because Katniss had never thought of putting her on the list.” he scoffed. “As far as the girl knew, she was chilling at home with one of her awful blue cocktail…” He shook his head again. “She was on _my_ list but we didn’t know she was there. They had moved her before we infiltrated the Center.”

“But surely they had no use for her once the victors…” Tadius argued.

“That was the worst part, I think.” he interrupted. “Everything else… She’s so _fucking_ strong… She would have bounced back quicker but _that_ … They moved her to a high security prison. They tossed her in a cell…” He kicked hard at a stone on his path. “ _Shit,_ that cell was so small… She couldn’t stand. She couldn’t…” He stopped for a second. “There was no window. No light at all. They kept her there, fed her once in a while, never acknowledged her directly, only took her out when they were bored and needed some distraction…” He rubbed his mouth. “They left her to _rot_. Literally. The stench… When I opened that door, I thought she was _dead_. I _really_ thought…”

He closed his eyes and stopped his pacing, taking a moment to ground himself. He was in Twelve, in the Village, Effie was home with their daughter. She was safe. She was _alive_.

“I see.” Tadius’ voice was weak. “Is it… Is it everything?”

“Being in the dark so long… She had a fit when I carried her out.” he whispered. “The light… She struggled… I hurt her. There were so many injuries… I tried to be careful but I hurt her… She passed out…”

“I hardly think that was your fault.” her father remarked, still sounding like he was going to be ill. “Why was it kept a secret? Why…”

He stretched his neck, watching the blue sky overhead.

“Same reason both sides targeted victors.” he shrugged. “They didn’t want martyrs. _I_ just wanted to protect her. She was… We didn’t know if… She was _insane_ , Tadius. She was hysterical for days. Every time we tried to take her off sedation, she screamed and screamed. It got better once she could see properly again but… She wouldn’t let anyone touch her. She grew panicked every time someone came too close… She started clinging to me after a while but we didn’t know if it was because I was in her room the most and I had become familiar or if it was ‘cause she recognized me. She wouldn’t talk. She wouldn’t…” He clenched his jaw. “It took weeks for her to become herself again. She had lost herself in that cell, had locked herself outside of her mind, I don’t know…”

He had cried the day she had said his name for the first time. He had gone back to his room, closed the door and just… let it all out. There had been so many dead, the previous months had been so awful, he had been so scared of losing Katniss and Peeta, of losing her…

“I was against her staying in the Capitol in the first place.” he said. “She needed to. For the boy. And then… Then, she wanted to prove it to herself she _could_ , I guess, but I knew if she failed she would crash and burn.” He swallowed hard. “The first days she spent here… I kept waiting for her to do something _stupid_ … The kids saved her. She wanted to be strong for them. She kept saying they needed her… The kids. I’m pretty sure that’s all that stopped her from trying to kill herself. And _you_ had turned her away. If she hadn’t had _us_ … If she…”

He stopped talking when he realized silent tears were rolling down Tadius’ plastic pumped cheeks.

A part of him felt bad for the man because he genuinely liked him, another rejoiced because he had been desperate to give them a piece of his mind ever since he had opened his front door on her almost two years ago.

“She will tell you it doesn’t matter what your family did to her.” he continued. “Maybe she even _thinks_ it because she’s too used to being treated like second best to her sister. It _did_ matter. Keep your excuses about your wife’s behavior ‘cause nothing is ever gonna justify that to me. I’ll never kick my kid out and I’ll never let her down. _Never_.” Tadius nodded slowly like a scolded child. “Effie moved on. She forgave you. That’s fine with me. But I’ve told Elindra once and I’m gonna tell you now… I’m tired of nursing her broken heart every time one of you _fucks_ up. Hurt her again and I will kick your ass.”

That was supposed to be Tadius’ speech. The _‘don’t hurt my daughter’_ speech. It was ridiculous and painful he had to break a _‘don’t hurt my wife’_ speech to her own father.

 He stormed off because he wasn’t sure how to end that conversation. He was unsettled, angry and upset. Thinking back to _that_ time… It never did him any good.

He hadn’t expected Tadius to catch up just as he was turning their front door’s handle.

“I am happy she found someone who loves her as much as you do.” the Capitol man stated.

Snowball prevented him from answering that by pushing the door open and dashing inside with a joyful bark, leaving Haymitch no choice but to follow or raise questions.

The kids were gone. Effie and her mother were having tea – in proper teacups and saucers he hadn’t even known they owned, unless it was Elindra’s doing – in the living-room.

Haymitch made a beeline for the baby who was lying on his wife’s lap, drooling a little around her pacifier. She was waving her arms next to her face, letting out sharp little cries from time to time that meant she wanted attention… He had attention to give in spare.

He picked her up carefully and pressed a kiss to her head, snatching the cat ragdoll from the end of the couch where it had been abandoned to make it dance in front of her face. She let out more of those little sounds that he was certain meant she was happy and he gradually relaxed.

He hadn’t been aware of the tension that had followed him in the room until Elindra cleared her throat. “Did you have a nice stroll, dear?”

“It was very informative, yes.” Tadius answered in a somehow clipped tone.

Haymitch declared he was taking April upstairs to change her diaper, even though it really didn’t need changing, and ran away before anyone could ask _him_ how the stroll had been. He settled on the rocking-chair in the nursery and hummed the familiar lullaby that always helped her sleep.

It was fifteen minutes before Effie managed to escape her parents to check on him.

“Did you have a fight with Father?” she asked, clearly confused.

“No.” he denied. And then sighed, reaching for her hand. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Not… now.”

He wasn’t going to lie to her.

Maybe Tadius could keep secrets from his wife and his daughters but that wasn’t how Haymitch wanted to do things.

“Are you alright?” she insisted, brushing April’s soft blond hair. Haymitch hoped it would turn out to be curly. Just like her mother’s. “If he said something that upset you…”

“I’m fine, Princess.” he promised.

She relented and went back downstairs. He did too after a while, mostly because he was hungry and he didn’t want to miss dinner – and neither did April. The moment Effie made it clear she was going to breastfeed her, the Trinkets made their escape.

It was a relief.

Effie rolled her eyes once they were gone and reclined more comfortably on the couch before unbuttoning her silk shirt.

There would be no perfect moment so he sat on the coffee table and toyed with his wedding band, making it turn one way and then the other.

“I hope you are not thinking of taking it off.” she teased. He hadn’t been aware he was doing it and he looked up guiltily. It made her frown. “Alright. Out with it. What happened between you and my father?”

Haymitch took a deep breath, his gaze darting to April. “It might upset you.”

“I will tell you if I need you to take her.” she retorted. “You are scaring me.”

“It’s nothing big.” he promised and then made a face. “Well, yeah, it’s big. But not _that_ big.”

“Haymitch.” she hissed in a warning tone.

“Your father asked questions and I answered them.” he said, rushing the words out. She looked puzzled so he clarified. “Questions about the war. Questions about…” He averted his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, that’s your story to tell but he started saying ‘ _what if it was April?’_ and, _yeah_ … I would like to know so…” He winced. “He needed to know. He was imagining stuff and…”

“Did you tell him _everything_?” Her voice was faint but she looked lucid enough.

“Pretty much.” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded slowly and then stared at April. “I don’t care if he knows. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Are you sure?” he hesitated.

“That lecture my mother went to? That man who is speaking out?” she said. “He is brave. I wish I was that brave.”

He moved from the coffee table to the couch, lifting her legs and placing them on his lap so he could sit with the two of them.

“You’re brave, Effie.” he stated. “I’m so proud of you…”

“Yes, I think you proved that this morning.” she grinned. “Why, _the whole District_ knows just how proud of your family you are.”

It wasn’t exactly what he meant but he accepted her deflecting and shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “Perfect baby, perfect wife. I did good for myself. I’m allowed to be proud.”

She laughed and he delighted in the sound.

It sounded like hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of information today! Did you enjoy the outing? How about Elindra's and Tadius' back stories? And of course Tadius wanted to know what happened to Effie... Was Haymitch right to tell him? Please let me know your thoughts! Feedbacks keep a girl happy and feed my wavering motivation!


	40. 4 Weeks

Running had never been Effie’s favorite activity.

Running though the woods where the ground was uneven instead of on a treading mill didn’t make it any better. Still, there was fresh air, Snowball to keep her company and the attractive possibility of going out of the house if only for half an hour.

Her parents’ visit and their determination to find out about the war had stirred too many things that were better left alone. Effie hadn’t been sleeping that well, more than once she had gotten out of bed from a bout of insomnia to clean the whole house in the middle of the night. Haymitch wasn’t faring any better. He clung to her in his sleep, called her name sometimes… His nightmares weren’t as violent as his past night terrors but it was obvious to her she had a leading role in them. The fact that they were slowly but surely coming up on the former period of Reaping days wasn’t helping any. As for April, she was picking up on the tension and crying a lot, to the point – and she felt _so guilty_ about that – Effie was desperate for every minute of quiet.

She couldn’t remember the last time they all had a night of proper rest.

It was hard to realize April was a month old.

Sometimes it felt like she had been there forever, other times it was like she was born yesterday.

She smiled when she remembered Haymitch insisting on marking her sole month of life two days earlier. And _she_ was supposed to be the one who loved parties… He had asked Peeta for a cake and everything… It had only been them and the children but it had been fun, it had helped put some joy back in the house.

She circled back through the woods to the Village, waving back at people who greeted her politely and ignoring those who muttered after her. The geese were roaming around and had spilled from the backyard to the front of the house. She shooed them with some apprehension, staying close to Snowball who had a natural gift for dispersing them, until she could reach the door. She left the dog outside to play with his feathery friends.

It was quiet inside so she tried not to make too much noise, not wanting to wake up April in case she was sleeping. A peek in the living-room told her that her daughter _was_ fast asleep – on top of Haymitch’s chest. She snorted at the way he was sprawled on the couch, his head propped on the armrest, certain he would complain about a crick in the neck later on. His hands were holding the baby, making sure she wouldn’t fall even as he slept, and she put any fear of that happening to rest.

They didn’t nap with April a lot.

They were both scared of what could happen.

But either their daughter was magical or their unconscious knew never to hurt the child, because the few times they had, it actually been the best sleep they had snatched in a while.

The living-room was a right mess. There were a lot of colorful toys on the floor, things they usually tried to distract April with when she was crying… Haymitch had a stuffed purple elephant with a nice blue ribbon wedged against his side. A bear and a dog were on the coffee table and she made a mental note to put them away before Snowball caught sight of them – the dog couldn’t resist stuffed toys. She was happy to notice April was holding on to the cat rag doll, though. Well, she was too little to really _hold on_ to it but she liked to close her fist around its paw in her sleep. Her small fingers squeezed it sometimes while she dreamed and it was the most _precious_ thing.

The camera had been abandoned on the bookcase, it was by far too tempting to resist. 

She was going to continue on her way upstairs for a shower when a soft noise coming from the kitchen caught her attention. She doubted a stranger could have sneaked in the house without Haymitch being aware – and the geese making a racket – so she strolled in the kitchen, confident about who she would find.

And, surely enough, Peeta was putting away food from grocery bags.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, Peeta!” she exclaimed. “I would have gone.”

Their cupboards had been empty for a few days now and they had been living on eggs, coffee and everything the children brought every day. Going grocery shopping had been at the top of her list but there seemed to always be something more pressing to do. Change a diaper, rock April, enjoy five minutes of calm with Haymitch…

The boy dismissed that with a smile and a wave of his hand. “I was on my way back from the bakery anyway. I left early. Delly will close.”

Effie glanced at the clock. It _was_ early. It wasn’t like him to leave the bakery mid-afternoon.

“Are you and Katniss doing something special?” she grinned, the romantic in her already swooning at whatever Peeta had planned. “Do you have a surprise for her? A picnic, perhaps?”

Peeta awkwardly shuffled his weight from one foot to the other and then cleared his throat, focusing on putting the last of the groceries in its proper place. “Actually… I thought I would hang out with my favorite niece if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” she frowned, surprised. “Is everything alright?”

She had noticed Peeta was around often, more often than Katniss in any case. She had dismissed that as inconsequential because as fond as the girl was of April, babies weren’t her scene. Katniss was sweet on her daughter, she always brought back small gifts and she always kissed her head hello and goodbye but she wasn’t at ease when Effie asked her to pick her up or to carry her for a moment.

“Sure.” the boy claimed. Too cheerfully. _Far_ too cheerfully.

Her frown deepened.

“As much as I love having you here, are you _certain_ you do not want to enjoy Katniss’ company?” she insisted, pushing the curtain aside so she could check the blue sky outside. “It is _such_ a nice day… You should take her out on a date.”

“She’s probably in the woods anyway.” he shrugged.

“All the more reason to surprise her.” she prompted. “Why, you two could go to the lake… It is lovely out there, isn’t it?”

And secluded.

Haymitch had taken her there a few times the previous summer.

“Do you want me to leave?” Peeta asked, sounding uncertain. “I’m sorry, you probably want to have a nap or something… Haymitch said April wasn’t sleeping through the night yet.”

The boy looked flustered now and Effie felt bad. She grabbed his arm before he could make a run for it.

“You are _always_ welcome, Peeta.” she stated firmly, pursing her lips a little. It shouldn’t have needed saying. It was obvious he was troubled about something however and she should have noticed earlier that something wasn’t right. Now that she thought about it… Finding a new routine with April had been chaotic but she realized she hadn’t seen the children together outside of meals. “Tell you what…” she hummed. “I will pop upstairs for a quick shower and a change of clothes. You can put the kettle to boil and when I come down you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wr…” he started but she lifted a finger and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Don’t lie to me.” she requested.

He closed his mouth and nodded his assent.

It was the quickest shower she could take and she rushed the getting dressed part. She gave up on make-up and on her hair, leaving it in the high bun she had tied it up in for running. She struggled to zip up her dress. Her old clothes didn’t quite fit even though she had managed to get her figure more or less back. She was still curvier than she used to be but it didn’t look _that_ bad. Her stomach, at least, was almost flat. There was nothing to do for the stretch marks, short of plastic surgery.

She needed new clothes, she decided as she walked down the stairs.

She heard April stirring so she made a detour to pick her up before she could wake Haymitch, snatching the baby sling from the armchair. It was her favorite accessory and she thanked Eileen every day for thinking of gifting it to them. Besides, April loved it even more than she loved the pram. If she really was upset, putting her in the sling and walking around was a good way of making her stop crying.

She came back to the kitchen just as Peeta placed two mugs full of steaming tea on the table. His face immediately lit up when he caught sight of the baby and Effie handed her over without hesitation. She still didn’t like it when people picked April up but she had gotten used to the children doing it. She trusted them.

And, truth be told, if Peeta wanted to change diapers, he was more than welcome to do it.

She prepared April’s bottle, listening as the boy talked in a silly voice to her daughter. She smiled at the picture they made but the smile faded when she focused on getting the bottle just right. She was still less at ease with that than Haymitch but she had learned. Breastfeeding… She loved it but she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. It was becoming painful and they were forced to give a bottle to April afterwards because she simply couldn’t produce enough milk. It was an indulgence more than a necessity now.

“Can I do it?” Peeta asked hopefully.

She hesitated. Feeding April was special for her. She already couldn’t do it the natural way… She shared those times with Haymitch because she loved the soft smile he always got when he gave her bottle to their daughter but she was never eager to let anyone else do it.

She nodded with a forced smile though, thinking it might cheer the boy up. It was clear it wasn’t the first time Peeta did it though so Haymitch probably had let him do it more than once. The boy didn’t need instructions or warnings to let her set the pace. He put a cloth on his shoulder to prevent accidents even.

A bit impressed, she sat down and watched, cradling her mug of tea in her hands.

“You are a natural.” she commented after a few minutes.

He flashed a beaming smile at her, eyes shining with… _something_. “Do you think so?”

“I do.” she promised. And then she realized what the problem was. “You want one.”

It wasn’t a question and Peeta didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t understand. He kept his eyes on her daughter, smiling softly. “She’s so precious…”

“Peeta…” she hesitated.

“I want something new. Something _good_. Something that will make life… _meaningful._ ” he sighed. “Why is it so _wrong_ to want that?”

“There is nothing wrong with that.” she offered. “But you are only nineteen.”

“And I feel like I lived a hundred years.” he shrugged, careful not to disturb the baby. “People have children at nineteen around here. It’s more common than waiting to be forty.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a gibe at hers and Haymitch’s age or a clumsy comment so she let it drop. She took a sip of her tea and considered her next words with care. “You haven’t completely recovered yet.”

“And I won’t ever _completely_ recover.” he countered. “That’s the thing, Effie… I don’t want to wait for my life to start. There are entire pans of my memories… They’re lost to me. I’m not sure if they’re real or not. I can ask, yes, but they’re never going to be… They’re never going to be _mine_ again. Not really. It’s like something someone tells you. A story.” He snorted. “Half my life is a story now.”

She reached out and squeezed his wrist. “But you are doing _so much_ better… With some more time…”  

“I think I’m as good as I’m ever going to be.” he interrupted softly. He shook his head and put the empty bottle down to gently tap April’s back. She spat on the cloth on his shoulder and started fussing but he had her calm down in a second by gently rubbing her stomach. “I don’t have episodes anymore. Or really rarely anyway. Doctor Aurelius thinks it’s as good as it’s going to get. I don’t even have weekly sessions now. I just call now and then to check in or when I need to talk. I’m as much _me_ as I’m ever going to be…”

His voice trailed off with unmistakable sadness.

“I see.” she said. How had she missed that much? She had been _far_ too focused on herself and her pregnancy and then April… “Dear, you should have told me…”

“You were busy growing a human being.” he joked lightly. “And it’s fine really. I’m…. _good_. But…”

“You want new memories.” she finished for him.

He adjusted his grip on the baby so he could bring the mug of tea to his mouth.

“I’m ready to move on.” he admitted. “And Katniss… She’s not.”

“It is… difficult to watch the one you love being consumed by grief.” she agreed, thinking back of years of doing just that. Watching Haymitch being devoured by his demons, unable to help or say anything to comfort him while he drown in a bottle… “She made some progress too, though. It could be a lot worse.” She could still be addicted to morphling, for one. “Healing takes time and not the same amount of it for everyone.”

She would know. She was still doing it.

“Yes, I know. I understand.” he promised. “I want to support her like she supported me. It’s just… She’s been working on that book for more than two years now.”

“The tributes book?” She made a face.

“It didn’t start with tributes. It started with people we lost.” he sighed. “Then it was Haymitch and her working on dead tributes. And now she’s asking Johanna and Annie for information on tributes from their Districts and…” He rubbed his face. “Where does it stop, Effie?”

“I have never been a fan of this idea, you know.” she confessed. “It is certainly a very noble idea to give them the recognition they deserve but… It is painful for me. Haymitch never… Haymitch always knew how to distance himself – or how to pretend to at least. I was never talented in that area. I got attached. _Always_. And they _always_ died and it was always…” She stopped talking and waved a dismissive hand. “No matter. It is a noble idea but it is also very painful.”

“It was supposed to be a way to put them to rest.” Peeta explained. “Now… Now I don’t know what it is anymore. It’s like a gigantic shrine. Jo didn’t want to help.”

“Yes, I cannot imagine she would.” Effie snorted. Johanna wasn’t good at dealing with unwanted emotions. “I cannot imagine Annie being much help either. She never was a mentor.”

“Exactly.” Peeta commented. “So she’s talking about getting in touch with Plutarch. Finding some way to… figure out who they were. She’s writing them a graveyard and I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know where it stops. It’s the work of a lifetime.”

She stirred her tea distractedly. “Perhaps it is what she needs. A purpose.”

Katniss looked balanced enough to her eyes but she wasn’t living with the girl. Still, she was walking, talking, _laughing_ … It was more than they would have bet on after the war. It was a true victory.

“She lives in the past.” he insisted. “And when I talk about the future, _our_ future…”

“Don’t pressure her.” she winced.

“That’s what Haymitch said.” he snorted. “And that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m not saying let’s get married tomorrow and start a family but…”

“That is _exactly_ what you said to me ten minutes ago.” she pointed out.

He flushed but didn’t deny it.

“I want a family.” he admitted. “But I’m willing to wait if I know it’s in the cards someday. That’s all I’m asking for. A someday. Someday we’ll get married. Someday we’ll have a family of our own. Someday we’ll move on for good.”

A _someday_ was a nice thing to have.

When she had still been an escort, she had dreamed of a someday when Haymitch would love her back all the while dreading the someday when she would be forced to quit, certain it would be the last of him she would see.

“She won’t give me that.” he continued. “She doesn’t want kids. She’s been _very_ clear on that. She doesn’t want to talk about it, she doesn’t want to keep the discussion open for later… She just… She doesn’t want them.”

“She is barely nineteen and she went through so much grief…” Effie countered. “I understand your stance, really, I _do_. I wanted children for a long time before… Well, you know.” She looked down, willing her fingers to stop shaking. She hadn’t even _mentioned_ the war and there she was, shaking like a leaf. She cleared her throat. “Haymitch had always been adamant children were a deal breaker.”

“How did you live with that?” he asked, brushing his fingers against April’s nose with open adoration.

“It was a non-question, really.” she sighed. “We were not… We were _not_ a couple, Peeta. Not in the traditional sense of the word. And there was no future in the cards for us. We lived on borrowed time and we both knew it.” And there had been the miscarriages weighting on her mind already. The knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to bring life, that she would always end up losing them… “Any child of his would have been in danger anyway. It was a non-question.”

“You could have found someone else.” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. “Someone who wanted the same things you did. Someone you didn’t have to sacrifice everything for all the time. Someone… Someone with whom you knew it could have been _easy_.”

She studied the boy, the flush on his cheeks, his _embarrassment_ , and she rubbed her forehead, not quite certain she wanted to get involved in the mess she could guess at. “How far did it go with that woman?”

“What woman?” Peeta asked, far too innocently. He could be an atrocious liar sometimes. She simply tilted her head to the side, lips pursed. “We didn’t do anything. It’s… _Nothing_.”

“If it was nothing, as you claim, you would _not_ be in my kitchen asking me if I would have left Haymitch for something _easy_.” she scoffed. She thought it over quickly and winced. “It is the Cartwright girl, isn’t it?”

“We’ve known each other a long time.” he replied defensively. “She’s… She’s _nice_ , Effie. She’s soft and loving and she would… She loves being at the bakery, we have fun experimenting with pastries… Katniss never comes around anymore. She’s always in the woods or working on her book… She snaps at me all the time… She doesn’t even… She doesn’t even… She doesn’t even let me _touch_ her anymore… She’s always tired or has a headache or…”

He sputtered the words with clear embarrassment.

“And how much of that has to do with you making doe eyes at your friend in front of her?” she rebuked, displeased. She snatched her daughter from his arms just because she was annoyed.

“I don’t…” he protested. “I _told_ you. _Nothing_ happened. It’s just… It could. If I wanted to, it _could_. And I’m not sure I _don’t_ want it to.”

“You aren’t sure you do not want to sleep with another woman but you want Katniss to commit her life to you and carry your children.” she snorted. “Do you see the problem, here?”

“You make it sound like I cheated on her.” he snapped. “I _didn’t_.”

“You are halfway there trying to rationalize it.” she retorted. “Do you love that girl more than you love Katniss? _That_ is the question here.”

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, running his hand in his hair. April cried out in protest to the raised voice and Effie rocked her distractedly, her whole attention on the boy falling apart in her kitchen. “It’s hard to figure out what’s real and what’s not. I… I’ve been in love with her _forever_ but I was a child, Effie. And now…”

“Now you suppose you are a man because you let your head be turned by a pretty girl.” she scowled.

“It’s not like _that_.” he insisted. “I wouldn’t…”

“It seems to me like you _would_ , actually.” she commented. “Be _very_ sure, Peeta. Because if you hurt Katniss like this…”

“It’s always about not hurting Katniss.” he cut her off. “When is it about not hurting _me_?” What about what _I_ want? What about…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Do you understand? _I don’t know_. Do I still love her or is it just… _How_ do I know?”

Effie selfishly regretted not having taken a longer run. She wiped the drool off April’s chin to give herself something to do.

“In my experience, questioning one’s love is an answer in itself.” she said quietly.

“Maybe it went too fast.” the boy said, cradling his head between his hands, his elbows propped on the table. “Maybe we weren’t ready to live together. She needed me and I moved in but… I was never the one she loved most until she needed me.” He snorted bitterly. “Gale warned me… In the Capitol, he warned me she would always choose the one she needs most. But that’s not love, is it? That’s convenience. I don’t want to be _just_ convenient. I want to…”

His voice broke and, with it, it seemed everything was breaking apart. Effie could see it clearly. He wasn’t talking to her anymore, not really. He was talking to himself. She had been down that road often enough over the years.

“Oh, darling…” she sighed. She placed April down in the baby seat and moved to the chair next to Peeta to wrap her arm around his shoulders. “She loves you. She isn’t good at showing it, perhaps. But she _loves_ you.”

“But I’m not her great love.” he scowled. “I’m not what she is _to_ _me_. If Gale hadn’t helped design that bomb, if Prim hadn’t died…”

“From what Haymitch told me, she didn’t exactly approve of Gale’s behavior during the war even before that.” she countered. “She never doubted _you_.”

“She gave up on me. Again and again.” he said tiredly. “I always put her first. _Always_. But… She still doesn’t.” He shook his head and she squeezed his shoulders harder. “It’s not really about her not wanting kids, you know?”

The words were quiet, almost shy.

“I know.” she hummed. Her not wanting kids had been the last drop that made a very full vase spill over. Had the kids ever talked about everything that had happened before and during the war? She didn’t think so. They were so young… “It will be alright, dear. You will see.”

Peeta was crying. Silently, yes, with his jaw clenched, but he _was_ crying.

And it broke her heart.

“I need some space.” he whispered. “It has become… We’re avoiding each other. All the time. It’s awkward. I need some space to figure out what I want.”

“What or _who_?” she asked. She clucked her tongue once and then, against her better judgment, gave a piece of advice she would rather not. “There is a difference between love and lust, Peeta. You are young and you haven’t known anyone but her. Temptation…”

“I know.” he cut her off, clearly embarrassed. “But it’s not just… I really _do_ like Delly. We’ve been friends forever.”

“Friends and lovers aren’t the same thing.” she warned. “And _settling_ is not for everyone. Besides… If you love that girl so much, you should consider _her_ feelings too. You cannot just take her for a spin and then…”

“Don’t make it sound so dirty!” he scowled, pushing her arm off his shoulders to stand up. “It’s not like… It’s not like I would sleep with her and then toss her aside…”

“Isn’t it?” she sighed. “In my experience…”

“Well, _I_ ’m not like that.” he denied, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I’m not… I’m _not_ a bad guy. I would _never_ cheat on Katniss. I would _never_ use Delly that way. I just… I need to figure out what _I want._ ”

She reached for the baby seat where April was fussing.

“I think you already did.” she remarked in a soft voice.

Peeta stared at her, almost shocked, and then nodded slowly.

She kept her eyes on her daughter when he left, a lump in her throat. She didn’t look up when she felt the familiar presence on the threshold.

“Well, _shit_.” Haymitch said eventually.

She didn’t ask how much he had heard. She figured he must have woken up sometimes when April had started crying and had stayed hidden not to get involved in that very volatile conversation.

“Don’t swear in front of the baby.” she rebuked flatly. She rubbed her face. “Should I have tried to convince him to think about it more?”

“Seems to me his mind was made before he even came here.” he muttered. “It’s been brewing for months. I just hoped…” He shrugged. “They might patch it up eventually. You and I fight all the time…”

“But we are not the children.” she whispered.

He came closer, placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed the tension away. “Wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“Well… If he hadn’t let that Cartwright girl turn his head…” she hissed. “What is it with you men and not being able to keep it in your pants?”

“You heard the kid, he didn’t cheat.” he sighed. “And… Won’t lie, I kinda want to punch him on the girl’s behalf but… We have to think about him too. It’s been coming. And it’s got nothing to do with the Cartwright girl or wanting to go see elsewhere. He’s been all in for a while. Katniss…” He shook his head. “She loves him, she’s happy with him, but you know that girl… She’s got walls.”

“She needs to take things slow and he should understand that.” she lamented. “I know it is not fair and that he has been the one making the most sacrifices but… If he _truly_ loves her…”

“You’ve never doubted you love me?” he mocked gently. “It’s never become too much for you to handle? You’ve never thought you’d be better off with someone else? Someone _easier._ ”

She dropped her head back, resting it against his stomach, her eyes on a still-fussing April. “It is different. We were doomed. We had no future. We weren’t… We weren’t _healthy_ together at that time, Haymitch.”

Their affair had been self-destructive. A poison to add to their collection. A way to punish themselves and each other.

A slow deliciously toxic deadly torture.

Not quite during the last years of the Games, of course, and never after the war but…

That was water under the bridge.

She had always returned to him in the end anyway. Just like he had returned to her.

Moths to a flame, the two of them, desperate to crash and burn.

“Relationships are not always easy.” she added. “They need work. Compromises. It took us a while to learn how to properly live together, don’t you remember?”

They had been used to sharing a penthouse not a proper house with all it entailed.

“Maybe they need to figure that out for themselves.” he pointed out. “We can’t get involved or we’re gonna lose one of them, sweetheart.”

“I know.” she sighed, standing up. “Well, won’t it be just _fun_.”

He smirked at her sarcasm but it wasn’t exactly genuine. He was just as upset as she was, certainly.

They bathed April and fed her without any disaster hitting them. They even relaxed after a while. They enjoyed the bath time as they always did, playing with their daughter’s plastic toys, adamant the thing she did with her mouth was a smile and trying to coax it out of her again and again by making stupid boat noises or making plastic dolphins poke her in the stomach.

“We’re whipped.” Haymitch snorted very wisely, later, once they had placed her down in her bassinet.

They had eaten dinner on the couch like hooligans and Effie was now distractedly sketching baby clothes on a notepad. Snowball’s head was pillowed on her lap, his body stretched on one side of the L-shaped couch, and Haymitch was sprawled on what was left of it, leaving her with only a small corner to curl up in. She grumbled about it but it seemed to amuse him.

The sound of the front door opening and closing slowly had them look at each other with apprehension.

She had expected slamming doors and shouts but the quietness was even worse.

She barely had time to place the sketchpad down. Snowball had lifted his head and was looking in the corridor’s direction but he didn’t bark or anything, which confirmed it was one of the children.

Katniss soon appeared on the living-room’s threshold, looking pale and lost. She opened her mouth to tell them something but all that came out was a sob. It seemed to surprise her for a second. And then she was crying. Ugly sobs that made her bend in half.

“Oh, darling…” Effie whispered, pushing the dog off the couch so there would be room. “Come here.”

She wasn’t sure the girl would, truth be told, but Katniss made a beeline for them and curled up between them, letting them trap her in a hug without protest. Her head was nestled on Haymitch’s shoulder, her face buried in the fabric of his shirt. Effie combed her long loose hair with her fingers, murmuring sweet comforting words that did nothing to help her.

She shifted awkwardly when her body registered the crying and responded to it but she didn’t have enough milk for it to be a real problem.

Katniss didn’t even try to explain what was going on. She just sobbed until she hiccupped and heaved a little… She was trembling so badly… But even then the tears wouldn’t stop.

Effie tried to force her to drink some water, afraid she would dehydrate, but she wouldn’t move from Haymitch’s arms.

She cried herself to sleep.

“Remind me why I didn’t want to kill the boy.” he asked her once he was sure the girl was dead to the world, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch to wrap it around her. “’Cause…”

Haymitch’s jaw was clenched and his arms locked around the girl.

Effie shook her head, brushing the dark hair away from their victor’s face. “I just hope he knows what he is doing.”

Haymitch scoffed at that.

Effie didn’t comment. She curled up behind Katniss, trying to keep her warm because the girl was still shivering in her sleep.

She knew Peeta was in some pain too but…

She hated seeing any of her children suffer like that.


	41. 6 Weeks

Haymitch kept humming long after April had fallen asleep in the crook of his elbow, distractedly pushing on his legs so the rocking-chair would move slowly.

He loved those quiet moments with his daughter and they had become far too rare in the last two weeks. She was a sweet child, April. She rarely fussed except after they fed her, when her stomach bothered her for a little while, and in the middle of the night when she woke up alone in the nursery and let them know she was displeased by wailing at the top of her lungs.

Taking the decision to move the crib to the nursery had been difficult to begin with. Hearing her cry for them night after night… It made them reconsider. Maybe it had been too soon. Maybe… But Haymitch _knew_ it had been the right move. They were both extremely wary about letting her out of their sight and he was sure that if they didn’t do it _now_ she would still be sleeping in their room years down the line. It was for her own good, really.

It certainly did nothing for them.

They spent half the night tossing and turning, listening to the baby monitor, standing up under the pretence of fetching a glass of water only to check on the sleeping baby…

The only good thing was that they were too exhausted to have nightmares.

Effie was having it worse than he was. She had finally stopped breastfeeding the previous week. It had been painful for a while now but she had soldiered on as long as she had been able. She had finally called it quit and he couldn’t say he was sorry about it. It had been painful _for him_ to watch her struggle for half an hour when April wasn’t getting enough food and would have to be fed a bottle right after anyway. It hadn’t done her separation issues any good though.

So with the children’s business on top of that…

Only thinking about it made him tired and he pressed a soft kiss against his daughter’s forehead, cuddling her close to his chest.

They had made it very clear to everyone they would _not_ take anyone’s side but… Even with that very clear stance… Things were different.

Peeta had moved out and was now living above the bakery in a small utilitarian flat that had made Effie scream in horror. His wife had immediately seen to it that it was properly furnished, dismissing the boy’s protests with such insistance Haymitch had thought more than once Elindra would have been proud. They were hoping it was all temporary but, for now, _temporary_ seemed like it would last a while and the kid couldn’t live on a mattress with pieces of junks the children had moved out of their house when they had found open space to stock them.

So Peeta stayed in town and hardly ever ventured into the Village anymore.

Haymitch made a point of visiting. Either he pushed April’s pram there or he stopped by and offered help with whatever heavy lifting the boy always seemed to need. He had told him he should come around for dinner or lunch or whatever but Peeta always said ‘ _maybe’_ and never showed up.

Haymitch thought he was a little ashamed to have put all of their lives upside down.

It was certainly hard to find a new routine.

Not that he blamed the boy. He knew Peeta had his reasons and that they were valid ones. But…

Peeta’s leaving had hit Katniss pretty hard. She had remained on their couch for two days straight, demanding almost more attention than April. For a while, Haymitch had been scared she would go back to her catatonic state. And then, one morning, she had gotten up, had left through the backdoor without a word and come back at noon with her bag full of game.

She was laconic, always sad, and she seemed to be going through the motions but she was functioning.

He wasn’t sure that was enough but it was as good as it was going to get for now.

On the contrary of Peeta, _she_ spent her time around their house, probably finding her own too big and empty. He could relate. He had felt that way for twenty-five years. She was making an obvious effort to spend more time with April too. She requested to be allowed to feed her, to change her diapers, to hold her… She was awkward all the while, didn’t really enjoy it, and Effie usually stood one step behind her, ready to intervene but unable to deny her anything given her frame of mind.

Neither he nor Effie had worded it but they both acutely remembered that Katniss had been suicidal after Snow’s execution so it had been a relief to see the girl wasn’t that far gone into old habits.

Haymitch wasn’t quite oblivious to what she was doing – and he didn’t think Effie was either – but he was keeping his peace for now. She wouldn’t solve anything by getting used to babies or by giving Peeta a child.

As for Peeta, he wasn’t sure if the kid was figuring anything out on his end. Haymitch had tried to have a talk with him, man to man, but the boy had brushed him off. Peeta needed time, that was what he kept repeating.

Haymitch wasn’t sure how much time Katniss was going to give him, truth be told. _He_ had already been forced to sit through three separate phone calls as it was – one from Jo, one from Plutarch and a very uncomfortable one from _Elindra_ who all demanded to know what was going. The Village was out of bounds for reporters but Peeta was now living in town and _that_ was fair game. The press had been having a field day _speculating_ , trying to get exclusive comments from everyone and anyone… The only good thing to come out of it was that they didn’t care about April anymore.

Haymitch had made it clear to Plutarch he should bury the story but there was only so much Plutarch could do – or _would_ do.

April stirred in her sleep and Haymitch came back to the present moment, realizing he had been drifting off and that he should take advantage of those precious hours of calm to get some rest himself. He carefully stood up and placed his daughter in her crib, making sure she had the cat ragdoll with her.

Snowball was slumbering next to the crib, in his usual spot, and lazily lifted his head when Haymitch double-checked that April would be fine. He patted the dog’s head and left the room, leaving the door ajar just in case.

It was habit to check that every window was closed and that the doors were locked – for the good it did them because Katniss sometimes let herself in in the middle of the night with her spare key and forgot to lock back behind her. When he eventually wandered back to his bedroom, he fully expected to find Effie asleep – or, at least, sleepily sketching some clothes or perusing a magazine.

What he _hadn’t_ expected was to find her lying on her side on top of the covers, clad in a brand new red see-through negligee, propped on her elbow, one leg draped seductively over the other. Her blond curls had been tousled and looked wild enough to make his mouth immediately water. It was the sassy grin on her red painted lips that was his undoing though.

He closed the door without a single thought, all his blood rushing south.

“You took a long time.” she pouted, trailing a lone crimson fingernail along the negligee’s neckline, bringing his attention to her breasts. “I was bored. Another five minutes and I would have started by myself…”

His brain was trying to calculate how long it had been since the last time he had been allowed to touch her – more than two months, maybe closer to three – but there were parts of him, parts that were quickly hardening, that _really_ didn’t care.

“Should have said.” he offered eventually, once he remembered how to talk. “Would have come back quicker.”

“But it would not have been a surprise then, Haymitch.” she purred, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “Do you like your surprise?”

His only answer was to shed his shirt, drop his pants and underwear and he crawled on top of her. She laughed when he covered her body with his and feverishly peppered every available patch of skin with hot kisses.

“You’re sure it’s not too soon?” he asked while he still could.

She shook her head, her smile softening into something less seductive and more… _tender_. “I am all yours.”

He found her mouth and kissed her deep. It was unhurried but purposeful. He let his hand explore the red lace, enjoying the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric, but eventually took it off her to properly touch her.

Her body was a bit different.

He was getting used to relearning it again and again. First the war and the marks it had left, then the pregnancy and now… a mother’s body. He could tell she was a bit insecure, certain he would want her but not sure she was as appealing to him as she used to be. He wished she wouldn’t doubt him. He loved her. Every part of her.

He took his time, letting his fingers and mouth roam on her, kissing the stretch marks with reverence because they were a reminder of the most precious gift she had ever given him, licking the fading scars as always in apology, making sure to nuzzle every spot that always sent her wriggling, hot and bothered.

Her hands were surer than his were when they traveled on his body and he nuzzled her neck in pleasure when she finally stopped teasing him to wrap her fingers around him. He hissed when she squeezed to tease him, automatically rocking his hips to get _more_.

He wasn’t certain where she had been keeping the condom she rolled on him or how she even had enough presence of mind to think about _that_ but he didn’t complain. 

“Haymitch…” she breathed out, just as far gone as he was, it seemed. “Now, please. Now.”

Sliding into her was pure bliss.

It was like coming home.

They rested with their foreheads pressed against each other for a while, eyes closed, enjoying the simple feeling of… being _together_ once more.

Then he couldn’t bear it anymore and he started moving.

She didn’t last long and neither did he.

They laughed like idiots when they were done and he rolled off her so he could discard the used condom and she could cuddle close to his chest. He pressed a long kiss in her hair. “So much for kids killing our sex drive, sweetheart.”

“Well, we _are_ exceptionally gifted at it.” she hummed. “I’ve _missed_ you.”

“Missed you too.” he mumbled, tightening his embrace, bringing her even closer.

She rubbed her nose against his neck and then nipped at the tender skin in a teasing fashion. “I love you.”

He tensed a little, like always, but took a deep breath and forced the words out, reminding himself there would be no impending disaster just because he said those words. “Love you, Princess.”

She almost purred in contentment and wriggled until she found the perfect position to fall asleep in, half draped over his chest.

He didn’t have any real trouble falling asleep that night, body and mind thoroughly spent.

He didn’t know at once what had woken him up. He thought it was April at first and he listened hard, focused on the potential crying that would come through the monitor, waiting for Effie to mumble that she would go since he had put her to bed, waiting for… _something_.

There was no sound from the nursery but he heard the distinctive clicking of claws on the stairs as Snowball wandered downstairs.

_Downstairs_.

That was where the small noises came from.

He waited but Snowball never barked so he figured there was no intruder, just someone with a key.

He sighed and extracted himself from under Effie’s weight, careful not to wake her up. She immediately curled up in the space he had abandoned, grumbling in her sleep about being cold. He tucked the blankets up to her chin, a smirk on his lips.

He didn’t bother getting completely dressed. He decided that his old tattered pair of checked sweatpants would do the trick. He was hoping to be back in bed in a short while. He would just check on Katniss, who had undoubtedly crashed on their couch and was probably back asleep, and he would come back to Effie’s warm embrace.

He peeked in the nursery on his way to the stairs but April seemed alright for now so he simply closed the door a little more so no noise would wake her.

He arrived downstairs just in time to see Snowball trying to convince Katniss to take his purple monkey. That was what the dog always did with upset people, try to comfort them with his favorite toy. The girl eventually took the hint and patted the Samoyed on the head.

“I had a nightmare.” she muttered.

She didn’t look up toward where he was but Haymitch doubted she had missed his approach. Hunter instincts and all that jazz.

“Figured.” he shrugged. He hadn’t expected to find her so awake, though. The last couple of times she had let herself in in the middle of the night, she had always been back asleep by the time he or Effie had made their way downstairs. She needed a safe place, he had surmised, and their living-room was the closest one. “Want some tea?”

She shrugged right back. He took that as an assent and headed to the kitchen, not bothering to hide his yawn. The lights flickered twice before turning on and he wondered how many more days of respite he had before he would need to change the bulb. He put the kettle to boil, listening to the shuffling behind him. The girl was dragging her feet and Snowball still seemed desperate to ease her troubles by bumping her leg with his head.

He only looked at her when she perched herself on the kitchen counter. She was in her pajamas – a loose green tee-shirt that probably belonged to Peeta and blue silky pants that he thought had been Effie’s birthday present the previous year – and she was hugging herself tight.

“You’re cold?” he asked, even if he knew that wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that kind of warmth she was looking for.

Again, she shrugged.

Ten months earlier, he might have offered her a drink. She looked like she needed one.

“I went to the bakery.” she said softly just as he was grabbing mugs from the cupboard. His hand stilled for a second and then he went on with the business of finding the box full of teabags in the mess of bottles and cans of formula. He also glanced at her bare toes and wondered if she had put on shoes for that trip or if she had hurt herself. “I had a nightmare and… I don’t know. I wanted… So I went to the bakery. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just… I only really woke up once I was there, I think.”

He leaned his hip against the counter and watched her. He didn’t say anything though, he just let her say her piece.

“I couldn’t go in.” she continued, staring at the dog who was looking at her with his head tilted. “I thought… I thought… What if Delly’s there? What if…” She shook her head and then gazed up at him, looking lost and hurt. “Do you think he… Do you think he…”

She couldn’t get the words out so he thought it kinder to put her out of her misery.

“He’s not sleeping with her, sweetheart.” he offered. At least, he _really_ didn’t think so. Peeta had made it clear to him and Effie both that he wanted to think things through not just… Get a taste of something else. He hoped he knew the boy well enough to be sure about that.

Katniss’ eyes filled with tears and she looked down at the dog once more. The kettle whistled and he turned the stove off, filling the two mugs with water. He hoped chamomile would calm her down a little.

“I could learn not to mind.” she said in a very small voice once he had thrust the mugs in her hands. Effie’s favorite pink mug looked out of place between her fingers. She was clutching it tight. “If it was just _that_. Just…”

“Sex.” he finished for her once again when she struggled to utter the word. He wasn’t particularly overjoyed to have that conversation with her but there was nothing shameful to the word. Even if the tips of his ears were burning a little and he felt the need to take a big sip of tea, even if the hot liquid scalded his tongue.

Her eyes darted up to him and back to the mug. “I’m bad at it.”

The confession was rushed in an even smaller voice than before.

He almost choked on the chamomile. “Katniss…”

“He likes it more than I do.” she soldiered on. “He wants to do it all the time and I… I don’t. I _like_ it. But not… Not _every day_ and not… He wants to try new stuff all the time and I don’t see why…”

“Please, can you have that conversation with Effie?” he cut her off, almost begging.

“He’s bored with me. I’m boring.” she mumbled, clutching the mug close to her chest like a shield.

“I’m sure you’re not boring.” he replied, flushing hard. He was trying, _really_ trying not to _think_ about what they were discussing. He was certain if he started picturing it he would be sick. “You’re just very bad at communication.”

“I could learn not to mind.” she repeated, completely ignoring him. “If that’s what he wants from her, you know? I’m bad at it, so…”

“You shouldn’t have to learn not to mind.” he grumbled, staring at his chamomile. “Maybe he’s the one who’s bad at it.”

She shook her head no. “He always makes sure I…”

“I _so_ don’t want to hear that, girl.” he winced.

“Sorry.” she whispered. She was red in the face too but she seemed too hurt to be completely embarrassed. “I like it too. I’m just not… I’m not _obsessed_ with it. There’s nothing wrong with _that_.”

“No.” he answered carefully.

“He said it was alright in the beginning.” she sniffed and Snowball let out a soft whine and lifted on his hinder legs to place his head on her knee. “And it _was_. Everything was fine. _Good_. I don’t know when it all went to hell, Haymitch. I try to remember and _I don’t know_. We were _good_. He asked if I loved him, I said yes and… We were… We were _happy_. I _thought_ we were happy. I thought…”

She swallowed back the sob but he heard it anyway. The tears rolling on her cheeks were testament enough of her frame of mind anyway.

He sighed and placed his mug on the counter, gently pushed Snowball aside and hugged her. She hugged back in a second, clinging to him like a drowning woman to a lifesaver.

“I don’t know what happened. _I don’t know_.” she kept repeating. “I destroyed _everything_. I _always_ destroy everything. But I don’t know what I did wrong this time. I tried. I _tried_.”

“ _Shhh_ , come on, now, sweetheart…” he whispered. “Wasn’t your fault.”  

“It must be. Everyone always leaves.” she countered. “Everyone _always_ …”

“ _That’s_ stupid.” he cut her off. “I’m here. Effie’s here. We’re not going anywhere. _The boy_ ’s not going anywhere. You’ll patch it up.”

“I love him.” she pleaded against his shoulder, as if he had the power to fix it all.

“I know.” he said, because that was the only thing he could offer. 

“I think he loves her.” she admitted and then there was no stopping her sobs. It was almost as bad as the night she had showed up with news that Peeta had declared they needed space. _A break_ , the boy called it. Katniss didn’t seem to believe for one second he would come back.

Haymitch didn’t think Peeta loved that Cartwright girl. Peeta loved Katniss. He was as sure of it as of his own feelings for Effie. It was almost as immutable as the sun rising in the east. But maybe the boy needed to remember that fact. Or maybe the girl needed to go the extra mile and actually _tell_ him how she felt without having to answer a question. Maybe Peeta wanted proof. Maybe not the _I-will-go-to-an-arena-and-sacrifice-myself-for-you_ kind of proof but… _something_. A compromise.

He didn’t know.

He just knew he hated being forced to comfort Katniss while she sobbed her heart out.

It made him want to punch something.

Or _someone_.

He wasn’t aware he was humming. It was a reflex probably, born out of weeks of singing April to sleep when she cried, of soothing his daughter’s troubles with that song. He only realized he had been humming that same lullaby as always when Katniss’ weight became heavy against his chest. For the second time in as many week, she had fallen asleep on him.

With a sigh and a muttered comment about how they were both too old for that _shit_ , he carried her to the couch. Her eyelids fluttered open when he set her down but he could tell she wasn’t really awake. He brushed her tangled hair off her face and covered her with the blanket they always left on the couch, making sure she was comfortable.

She muttered some words that were almost too inaudible to be understood.

He still caught _Dad_.

He stood there for a second, heart _squeezing_ in his chest, wondering if she was dreaming, wondering if it would feel that way when April would say it for the first time, waiting in case she said something else. When it became clear she was in a deep slumber, he went back upstairs, Snowball close on his heels.

“Haymitch.”

At the call of his name, he came back on his steps and into the nursery where Effie was slowly walking around the room, her dressing gown knotted tight around her body, rocking the fussing baby in her arms.

“Sorry. Didn’t hear her.” he apologized automatically in the hushed voice they always used around April.

“I know. I heard you talking downstairs.” she offered on the same tone. “How is she?”

He shook his head. “Not good. Might be a good idea to… Get her _away_ for a while. Give both of them some real space.”

Effie frowned. “April is not two months old and you want to take a trip?”

“Too soon?” he winced. “I don’t know… I just… Katniss isn’t doing well and I don’t think the whole District wondering what’s going on and talking behind her back’s helping, sweetheart. I was thinking… Why not take her to Four? For a week or so. Like… a holiday.”

“We could send her to Jo and Annie.” she suggested.

“No.” he objected at once. “I don’t want her to feel like we’re sending her away. We’re not… We’re not going to _abandon_ her.”

“Of course, we are _not_.” she sighed. “But I cannot say I am looking forward to a long train ride with such a young baby, Haymitch…”

He studied her, then the baby in her arms. Then he looked at the corridor he came from. Everything in him screamed that he should remain silent and drop it. “I can take her by myself if you can handle April.”

Effie blinked, looked at him and then at their daughter. “No. If you are going, we are too. Perhaps… Perhaps next week? Or maybe in two weeks. We cannot _just_ rush to another District on a whim nowadays, we need to _plan_.”

“You’re sure?” he insisted, unable to hide his relief. The idea of leaving her and their child wasn’t exactly a thrilling one.

“Yes.” she promised. “Johanna and Annie have yet to meet April anyway. It will be nice.” She frowned. “You should check with Plutarch that Katniss is allowed to leave Twelve though.”

He nodded and crossed the distance that separated them to plant a kiss on her lips, careful not to crush April between them.

“You’re a good mom.” he told her very seriously.

She rolled her eyes. “I am simply trying to keep up with you, darling.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

But it was a compliment he could live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's difficult to jungle with so many kids but hey! at least Haymitch got laid right ;) What do you think? Is a trip to Four a good idea?


	42. 9 Weeks

“You don’t seem impatient.” Eileen teased, taking a sip of her smoothie.

Effie sighed, letting her eyes wander around. They were sitting outside the Clarkes’ coffee shop, at one of the few empty tables left. Business was booming, helped in no little part by the nice weather and the genius idea of settling tables and chairs on the sidewalk. It was busy and the boys Eileen and Liam had hired to help were running around almost comically.

They had been talking about the trip to Four ever since Effie had arrived and, truth be told, she was starting to be sick of the subject.

“Well, it is all set.” she said slowly. “So there is no escaping it now.”

She had selfishly hoped, to the last, that they would manage to avoid it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go on a trip, she loved traveling and she loved Four, but April was so little still… It would be a challenge to take care of her in a different setting than their house where everything was readily within reach.

She had booked a hotel – and hadn’t listened to Haymitch when he had insisted on something _small_ – one her father had shares in and that would not only cost cheaper than this sort of resorts would normally but that would also come with a guarantee the staff wouldn’t babble about any of them. Annie had offered to host them naturally but with three of them and a baby, Effie had politely declined and didn’t think she had imagined the other woman’s relief.

Katniss, if possible, was even less enthusiastic than she was. The press had been hounding them all like vultures lately, trying to figure out what was going on with Panem’s star-crossed lovers now, and making their lives a living hell. The girl insisted a trip to Four would make it worse. Effie was divided on the issue.

Now that they had gone to all the troubles of securing her the right to travel though, it seemed moot not to take advantage of it. It had been more complicated than Haymitch had expected and no less than Effie had dreaded. When she had phoned Plutarch to inform him they were thinking about taking Katniss to another District, she could almost _hear_ the blood leaving his face and leaving him white as a ghost.

It was unclear for a while if Katniss was still Haymitch’s charge or if her coming of age had put an end to that. It was also unclear if her interdiction of leaving Twelve had now been lifted or not.

She had had the distinct impression that Plutarch was leaning toward _not_.

In the end, after consulting Doctor Aurelius and after a short conversation between Haymitch and President Paylor, it had been agreed Katniss was a free woman once more. It had also been agreed that Haymitch should make sure nothing went wrong.

Somehow, she wasn’t sure that his promise to make her leave her bow at home had amused Paylor.

“Not looking forward to that train ride, are you?” Eileen chuckled. “I bet if Haymitch had thought about it, he would never have suggested it. So long stuck in a train with a baby…”

“ _Quite_.” she frowned. “Fortunately, I managed to sweet-talk Secretary Heavensbee into letting us borrow a hovercraft on account of Katniss. Why, I _had_ to be creative and I don’t think he really bought it but he was nice enough to oblige. It will only be three hours.”

“Already too long.” her friend commiserated.

She nodded her agreement and brought her cup of iced tea to her lips. “I _do_ intend to treat this as the honeymoon we didn’t have, though. He is warned he’s not allowed to complain.”

Eileen grinned leaning closer and taking a conspiring tone. “Does this mean more lingerie shopping in the future?”

They giggled like young girls. Effie had almost forgotten what it was to have a female friend her own age and she was grateful for Eileen’s presence in her life. It was good to have someone with whom to talk about those things and who wouldn’t run away screaming because they saw Haymitch – or her for that matter – like a parental figure of sort.

“I seem to have exhausted the stock we bought last time.” she grinned.

“Already?” Eileen pouted, sounding almost jealous. “You’re _lucky_. Between the girls and the shop, Liam and I can’t get five minutes to ourselves.”

“Finding time hasn’t been the easiest thing of late.” Effie admitted but her lips soon stretched in a smile again. “However, the good thing with Haymitch is that a flash of lingerie is enough to make him forget everything that isn’t me.” There was more giggling. She distractedly stirred her iced tea with the straw she hadn’t used. “I don’t think I will find anything new or worthwhile at the shop though. Twelve is _seriously_ lacking in the clothing stores department.” There were two clothes shops, neither of which really had anything good, and, given that she felt the need to replace her entire wardrobe because it wasn’t fitting like it used to, it was problematic. She had ordered some dresses from the city but she disliked having to send them back when they didn’t fit. “I think I will buy some fabrics, rather. I will do a better job myself.”

She had already sewed herself a couple of summer dresses with darling matching outfits for April – which had made Haymitch laugh entirely too much – but with a baby to take care of, it was a slow process. And she had never tried to design lingerie before. It would be a challenge.

“That dress you had the other day, the red one… That was one of yours, right?” Eileen hummed. “I would kill to have one like that.”

Effie brightened. “Oh, nothing easier! I can do one for you. Perhaps not the same cut, we don’t have the same figure, but something similar enough. Just come by the house when we’re back and I will take your measurements.”

Her friend beamed and thanked her profusely even as she assured her there was no need. She was always happy when people liked the clothes she had timidly sketched and put together by herself. That Eileen wanted one was the greatest compliment of all.

They were laughing when Liam approached the table with Fanny in his arms and an apologetic wince. “Sorry, but the little miss is hungry.”

Seeing Fanny in Eileen’s arms made her heart _ache_. She missed April so fiercely all of a sudden… She tactfully averted her eyes when her friend maneuvered the baby and her scarf so she could feed her without anyone seeing anything. She would never have been as bold as doing that outside but it didn’t bother her. Once upon a time it might have, now… Now she was a mother herself and she understood the need to answer to one’s child immediately.

“Do you still miss breastfeeding?” Eileen asked softly.

Effie finished her drink before clearing her throat. “I am trying not to. We have enough problems without me adding my insecurities to the mix.”

“Haymitch would understand.” her friend chided her gently.

“He does to some extent.” she agreed. “And, truly… April is healthy. That is all that should matter. Isn’t it?”

Eileen studied her with sympathy, sometimes glancing at the baby in her arms, hidden from view for now. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel bad now and then.”

Effie smiled at her and then dismissed that line of conversation with a  wave of her hand. “I should probably go. I still need to swing by the bakery and I have left Haymitch alone with April long enough.”

They exchanged goodbyes and good-wishes for the trip to Four. Effie walked to the bakery quickly, impatient to go home. She didn’t pay attention when she pushed the door, not quite expecting to interrupt anything.

Peeta and Delly bolted apart when the little bell over the door rang.

And Effie stood there frozen, not happy at all with what she was seeing.

The two young people were red in the face and staring at their shoes like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Had they been _kissing_?

“My apologies.” she said coldly, in a clipped voice that made her now fading Capitol accent come forth. “I did not mean to intrude. I simply wished to check one last time that you would not mind taking care of Snowball.”

“Effie…” Peeta winced.

“I should go.” Delly said, sounding every bit as embarrassed as she should be in Effie’s opinion. “Goodbye, Mrs Abernathy.”

She watched the young woman sneak on the other side of the counter and out the door, all the while squirming under her angry gaze. _Good_. She liked that she could still make people squirm.

“It’s not what you think.” Peeta sighed before she could say anything.

“Do you take me for a fool?” she hissed.

Peeta crossed his arms and looked everywhere but at her. “Look, Katniss didn’t try to get in touch and now you’re all leaving for Four… What am I supposed to…”

“You broke up with her.” Effie snapped. “What is she supposed to do? Serenade you? Convince you not to sleep with that girl?” She let out a deep frustrated sigh. “I do hope she is worth it. I _do_ hope so for your sake. Because I guarantee you, you are making a mistake.”

“I thought you weren’t going to take a side.” he grumbled.

“I wasn’t. I am _not_.” she retorted. “But you are being an idiot and I cannot keep my peace about that.”

“We didn’t even kiss.” Peeta muttered. “You came in when…”

She lifted her hand, the authoritative gesture enough to interrupt him. “I am not interested in what you do or not with that girl. Not when I have to comfort Katniss every two days when she cries her heart out about you leaving her.”

“She cries?” Peeta frowned.

And he was sounding far too pleased about that.

She understood he was waiting for a demonstration of love or, at least, a declaration of sort. He wanted Katniss to go the distance. She _understood_. But Katniss was devastated and unable to face another abandonment. This was all going too far.

Effie pursed her lips, shook her head and turned to leave the bakery, not trusting herself to not say things she wouldn’t mean.

She was so _angry_.

She knew it wasn’t her place to intervene. The children had to live their own lives, make their own choices and mistakes. They were _young_ , that was the thing.

She had been seventeen when she had met her first serious boyfriend and it had been marvelous for a while but then it had gone to hell. He hadn’t been the love of her life despite what she had convinced herself of.

There had been other men after that, other relationships she had invested herself in only to see them crumble to dust.

She had been twenty-two when she had met Haymitch.

She had been twenty-nine when she had realized she had feelings for him that were more than lust.

She had been thirty-five when they had agreed they should give it a shot even if it was long distance.

She had been thirty-seven by the time they actually got around to live together and have a normal relationship – as normal as they could be anyway.

For love to endure, it took time.

The children had jumped into their own relationship after _entirely_ too much trauma and had clung to each other in a codependency that she had no place to judge given her own need to have Haymitch near but that couldn’t be as bearable for young people as it was for someone her age. As for figuring out what was true and what was false in their personal history between the star-crossed lovers act and what the Capitol had done to Peeta…

It wasn’t her place to intervene.

But, _damn,_ did she want to.

Sit them down and lecture, perhaps.

Or…

She didn’t see the man and the huge box he was carrying and she collided into him with enough strength that they both found themselves sitting on a pavement.

“Oh, my! I am _so_ sorry!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting from the man to the open truck full of boxes and the house’s open door a few feet away. _Newcomer_ _moving in_.

“No harm done.” the man promised, getting back on his feet and outstretching a hand for her. “I wasn’t looking.”

She thanked him with a smile once she was back upright and opened her mouth to welcome him to the neighborhood when a little girl called out from the other side of the street. “Are you okay, Mrs Abernathy?”

She vaguely recognized the girl as one who lived a few houses over from theirs in the Village. There were two other children with her and they were staring at Effie as if they weren’t sure how she would react. They looked ready to flee a very nasty witch.

“Absolutely. Thank you…” She racked her brain and made a valiant but uncertain attempt. “Gerta.”

The little girl beamed, waved and turned back to her friends who were whispering with awe at her supposed bravery to address _Effie Trinket_.

It saddened her that children still feared her so.

But there was nothing to be done, she supposed.

She turned back to the man in front of her, intending to finish her greetings, but the words died on her lips. The stranger’s face had closed off.

“Abernathy?” he repeated coldly.

And she had been having _such_ a nice day with Eileen. 

She didn’t even try to discuss it. She forced a bright fake smile on her lips and sidestepped the man. “Have a nice day.”

“It’s sickening what you got away with.” the stranger called after her and, despite her best intentions, she _flinched_.

She wished she had taken Snowball with her.

The man had already gone back to unloading his boxes and wasn’t paying her attention anymore but she felt scared and small and defenseless all the same. Her mind flashed back to Clay and his promise to make her pay and… She took a deep breath and hurried along the street, only relaxing a little when she spotted the slope that went up to the Village.

All those people who hated her, who thought she had _gotten away_ …

Would they change their mind if they knew what had really happened to her? She had tried _really hard_ not to think about her parents’ sudden but expected curiosity for the war. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. Her mother going to lectures to try and understand… Her father questioning Haymitch…

The knowledge that her father now _knew_ was hard to bear. It was shameful somehow. She knew both he and Haymitch would have had something to say about that particular feeling but to her it _was_. It was too private to be shared. Even with her parents. Even with Haymitch sometimes.

She truly admired that man who was speaking out publicly and trying to bring attention to the fact some Capitols had been hurt during the war too. She _really_ did. If only she was half as brave…

But it was a different situation.

She had never been a rebel, not outwardly at least, and she _had_ been an escort.

A _monster_.

She swallowed hard and chased the word out of her mind.

_We are who we are_.

Snowball’s barking and the honking of the geese made her blink and she realized she was home a heartbeat too late. Her mind had wandered and her body had taken over.

She fumbled with the keys. Her fingers were shaking a little.

The dog must have been in the backyard because he didn’t rush to greet her. She followed the noises to the living-room and couldn’t help a smile when she spotted Haymitch sitting on the floor. April was on her back on the padded baby playing mat with yellow plastic arcs from which were dangling toys; she was letting out those delightful little chirping noises that sounded so much like laugher, her arms were reaching out as if she was trying to catch the giraffe-shaped rattle Haymitch was shaking above her head.

He glanced at Effie over his shoulder with an amazed look. “Here’s Mama. Be a good girl, now, sweetheart… Mama’s here to watch… Come on…”

“What happened?” she asked, almost in dismay. “What did I miss?”

She had missed it the first time April had managed to grab her ragdoll. Of course, she could only hold it for a couple of seconds, she lacked the strength to do otherwise, but it was always _so precious_ when she grabbed her toys or stuffed animals, even for a short moment… Effie had been in the kitchen fixing her bottle and she had missed it.

“Nothing yet.” he smirked. “I think she was trying to roll on her side earlier.”

“By herself?” she exclaimed, excited. She joined him on the floor and sat on April’s other side, so proud she thought she would burst. She had noticed their daughter was trying more and more to lift her head when she was on her stomach and she was certain she would start crawling in a couple of weeks. But she had never rolled on her side by herself yet. “Should I grab the camera do you think?”

Haymitch shrugged his ignorance, making sure to keep April entertained by shaking the rattle. He was trying to coax her to the side, she figured.

After long minutes, he grew tired and placed the rattle down with a sigh. “Next time.”

“She’s growing up so fast.” Effie lamented, watching the baby suck on her tiny fist, drooling everywhere.

“We still have some time before she leaves the house for college.” he snorted.

“She’s almost three months old. Have you seen those weeks go by? I am telling you, she will be eighteen tomorrow and we won’t even realize.” she argued with a pout, reaching out so April would wrap her free hand around her finger. “Mama missed you very much, my darling. I am never leaving you for that long again.”

“You were gone two hours.” Haymitch chuckled. “Someone’s feeling dramatic today.”

Her pout deepened. She toyed with the idea of telling him about the newcomer but she decided against it. The man hadn’t been threatening. He hadn’t even insulted her or spat at her feet… Of course, he hadn’t exactly been _nice_ either – or even _polite –_ but… It was better than some of the things she had to content with in the District and, truth be told, it wasn’t the worst she could expect. People resented her presence and they had their reasons. It made her grateful for the ones who had chosen to actually look further than just her past as an escort and had welcomed her in Twelve.

“Where’s Katniss?” she asked. It wouldn’t do to be careless. The girl was around their house more often than not lately. Effie was now _really_ thinking about remodeling the study into a guest room after all because the girl couldn’t keep sleeping on the couch. If this was to go on, she would prefer it if Katniss had her own space.

“Hunting.” he shrugged. “Sae needed some fresh meat.”

“Good.” she sighed, her annoyance coming back full force now that she was sure the girl wouldn’t accidentally overhear something that she didn’t particular want her to eavesdrop on. “I walked in on what would have been Peeta and that Cartwright girl’s first kiss. And I am _not_ sorry I interrupted them, let me tell you.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “The boy was always the easy one. What the _fuck_ is he doing making our life difficult _now_?”

Perhaps it was a sort of acting out, she mused. They had always been more focused on the girl because she was problematic and her rash actions made her a danger not only to herself but to all of them. And now there was April and Peeta had always been so self-reliant that they hadn’t been paying the boy much attention at all.

And perhaps it had nothing to do with them altogether and she was just being self-centered…

“Language.” she rebuked in an automatic response. “It is good we are taking Katniss away. I am starting to fear… This might not be an easy fix.”

“Yeah.” he agreed with a sigh. His gaze lingered on April and then came back on her. “You had fun with Eileen?”

She welcomed the change of topic with a grin. “Why, yes. We talked about buying more lingerie.”

“Is that so?” he smirked.

“Why?” she purred, batting her eyelashes. “Do you object to that?”

“Time for April’s nap, yeah?” he countered. “Can show you what I think about it…”

“Show me?” she teased, biting down on her bottom lip. “I did not know you cared to go over my wardrobe with me…”

She had missed the flirting and the teasing and she reveled in the way he was still looking at her. In the books, they warned going back to a normal sexual life could be a challenge for some couples. It was a field where they had never met a challenge in their life. She had feared he would treat her differently now but it had been unfounded.

“I’ve got a few id…” he started, a twinkle in his eyes only to stop and point at their daughter with an entirely different form of enthusiasm. “Look! She’s doing it again.”

And April was, in fact, trying to roll on her side.

“Should we help her?” Effie suggested, reaching out and letting her hands hover just in case the baby needed her. Not that their daughter could hurt herself but… “Show her how to do it?”

“She’s figuring it out.” he denied. “Look.”

It took a few more minutes before April managed to roll from her back to her side. Effie clapped with pride, her sight blurred by stupid tears. Haymitch wasn’t faring any better: looking at him and hearing the praises he was bestowing on the baby, you would have thought she had just climbed a mountain.

“She is _so_ smart.” she whispered, unable to resist the urge to pick her up and cuddle her. Haymitch shifted, resting his back against the couch and she leaned against his chest without a second thought, completely relaxing once he wrapped his arms around the two of them. “So, so smart… You are going to be a genius when you grow up, my darling. You will do great things, I just feel it.”

She felt Haymitch’s lips against her hair.

“My girls are made for greatness.” he said very seriously.

She burrowed into his warmth and let everything that wasn’t _this_ wash away.

Everything else didn’t matter.

Not when she had him and their baby safe and near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, they're too far gone for their girl. They're the kind of parents who will show you a thousand pictures of their kids and brag about how clever and advanced she is ;) On other news, life goes on... Is Peeta digging himself into a hole? Will people ever let Effie forget about who she used to be? Will she enjoy Four? So many questions ahah! Let me know your thoughts!


	43. 11 Weeks

The mood on the deck of Annie’s house was festive but sad.

Their two weeks stay in Four was coming to an end and Haymitch hadn’t seen them go by.

He had grumbled and ranted when he had realized just how luxurious a resort Effie had booked but he had soon reconciled with it. Their suite had a living-room attached to the bedroom, which had allowed them to leave April’s crib in a separate room – with the door wide open naturally – and had, in turn, allowed them their nights to themselves. She had been adamant that this trip should be treated like their honeymoon and they had done just that.

He had been a bit wary, at first, about how much they were leaving Katniss alone to visit something or other, to go to the beach or just lock themselves in their room until Effie couldn’t quite walk straight anymore… However, he had been worrying over nothing. Katniss had been happy to be left to her own devices, letting Annie teach her fishing and Johanna drag her all around the District.

The holiday had been good for the girl. She had stopped mopping about Peeta, had stopped crying her eyes out, had stopped even asking after him when the boy called to check in… He wasn’t sure that last point was a good thing because Peeta, on the other hand, _certainly_ was asking after her constantly but with Johanna repeating her five times a day that she was better off unattached, he though the girl’s broken heart was starting to mend.

He had thought her mother would show up.

It was hardly a secret that they were in Four. The press had picked up on it quickly enough and the whole country knew they were taking a holiday – minus Peeta, but the official explanation to that was that he couldn’t leave the bakery unattended. He had _really_ expected Aster Everdeen to show up. She hadn’t.

Katniss had gone looking, he suspected, but if she had made contact she hadn’t told him.

All in all, it had been a good two weeks. No drama, no heartache… It was good to see Annie, Johanna and little Finn – all the more so because the little boy was in awe of his “cousin” and Annie was always willing to babysit.

Now it was the last dinner in Four, they were all lingering on Annie’s deck long after the last plate had been cleared off chocolate cake and Haymitch was feeling a bit nostalgic. He didn’t really want to go home just yet.

He hadn’t really been listening to what everyone was talking about, too lost in his own thoughts. The air smelt like salt and he could hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. There were sounds of celebration too. Four was a popular District, not unlike in the Capitol, there was always a party to attend somewhere. The stars were bright but not as bright as they were at home, flashing lights and advertisement billboards saw to that.

“Effie’s been gone a long time.” Annie pointed out in a soft voice that didn’t carry much further than him.

He blinked, not even having realized that she hadn’t come back. She had stood up with the excuse of bringing the dirty plates back inside and he hadn’t thought anything of it. April wasn’t asleep yet even if it was well past her bedtime. She was fussing in his arms, clutching the cat rag doll and regularly spitting out her pacifier to bring it to her mouth… Annie outstretched her arms with a smile and Haymitch handed his daughter over without a second thought.

It was funny how he always felt a tiny bit reluctant to let anyone hold her – even the kids – but he trusted Annie implicitly. Maybe because she was a mother herself.

Jo’s eyes tracked them but she didn’t comment, too focused on winning her argument against Katniss. Finn was asleep on the settee they were sharing, his head cushioned on Seven’s victor’s lap. She was distractedly combing his hair. She softened so much around the boy it was endearing and a bit incredible to watch. 

Haymitch ventured inside the house, smiling a little at how cluttered and impractical it was. Effie had never commented on their friends’ choice of decoration but her wrinkled nose had said it all.

The kitchen was empty but the double glass doors were open and he walked through them to find her leaning against the wooden balustrade of the back porch, watching the ocean in the distance. Four’s victors had been lucky to have a Village that gave on the beach. There were worse views.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, plastering his chest to her back, and pressed a kiss against the side of her neck as a greeting. “You’re okay?”

She immediately melted against him with a small smile that hardly hid her sadness, resting her forehead against his jaw. “You will think I am an idiot. I was so reluctant to come and now I am in no hurry to leave.”

He chuckled. “I know what you mean.”

“I might have liked it. Living here.” she hummed. “That was your plan, wasn’t it? I remember you told me about it when I was still in the hospital. Or I think I remember, at least…”

He was surprised she did. It had been in the early days after her rescue… When he was talking to fill the silence because she wouldn’t or couldn’t utter a word yet, when she had flipped out at sudden moves or too loud noises… He had told her so many things back then. Mostly how sorry he had been for what had happened to her but also how foolish he had been to think the rebels would be any different… He had told her about the bombing of the City Circle, about the kids, about what he had wanted to do next… And, yeah, going back to Twelve hadn’t been on that list.

He had told her his dream of grabbing the kids and moving to Four as soon as it would have been possible because she had been half insane and he hadn’t seen the ill in it. He had had it all planned out back then. Annie had already told him she would be going home as soon as Snow would have been executed, Jo had made it clear she would be following her… It had been a logical leap to think about going with them. He hadn’t wanted to stay in the city and he hadn’t wanted to go back to Twelve. Four was a nice District. Big enough that Effie wouldn’t have felt too homesick…

It hadn’t turned out that way in the end.

“It could have been good.” he commented.

It was difficult to imagine a life that wasn’t theirs now. But to the risk of being called a fool, as long as he had Effie and the kids, he thought he would have been happy anywhere.

“We could still move here.” she suggested but it wasn’t really convinced.

Twelve was home now. He hadn’t been sure it could be again, not after the war and the destruction he was partly responsible for… But now? Now it was home. Their life was there, their house…

“Not sure sand and Snowball would mix well together.” he mocked. Two days and she would scream herself hoarse about having to comb his fur every time the dog took a walk. Plus it would be too hot there for the Samoyed. He was made for mountains and wide outdoors.

“You have a point.” she grinned. “I _do_ miss him.”

“Bet he misses us.” he smirked.

“He certainly misses April.” she laughed. “Isn’t it adorable how he always stays in the same room she is in?”

Snowball’s behavior with the baby _was_ adorable – not that he would admit as much aloud.

His thumb drew distracted circles on her hip when he nuzzled her neck. “It was a nice honeymoon.”

“Oh, it _really_ was…” she purred, grinning hard. “Why, Haymitch… If I didn’t know better, I would think you cannot get enough of me.”

He turned her around in his arms and pinned her to the wooden railing, kissing her hard. She responded to it immediately, sneaking her arms around his neck and pulling him close… One of her hands got lost in his hair, the other coiled around his nape…

They were behaving like teenagers, they had been behaving as such ever since they had put a foot in Four… Was that what people were supposed to do on their honeymoon? Even if they already had the kids and the dog and the house?

He couldn’t care any less about how his behavior looked like.

Not when her tongue was in his mouth and she was rubbing her body against him…

“Not sure Annie’s gonna be happy about us _fucking_ on her back porch…” he mumbled against her lips, between two hot kisses.

“Probably not.” she agreed, drawing her head back to look at him, blue eyes twinkling in the dim light from the porch lamp. “A shame.”

“Time to go back to the hotel, yeah? Call it a night.” he smirked, his hand wandering south to grope her.

The weeks he had spent without being able to touch her like he loved to touch her had been entirely too long. He loved her body even more now. It was softer somehow. Effie complained and lamented about it, about how she couldn’t completely get back in shape despite the daily runs and the exercise sessions, but Haymitch _loved_ it. She had reluctantly admitted that if he truly did then she could learn to live with it.

 “Soon.” she promised, stealing one last kiss.

She dragged him back inside by the hand. He didn’t even care that their fingers were still entwined when they joined the others on the deck or that they were definitely too old to hold hands and that Johanna was right to laugh at them.

He was too happy to care.

April was sitting on Katniss’ lap now, apparently having been handed over during his short absence, her back resting against the girl’s stomach, her head carefully propped up. It still tended to bow a little sometimes but when Haymitch thought that she hadn’t been able to remain in a sitting position even if they held her only a couple of weeks earlier, it made him dizzy. Effie was right. Their daughter was growing up _so fast_ …

The cat ragdoll was suddenly dropped and Effie picked it up without a thought, shook it a little and handed it back to the baby.

“Got lost in the _dirty_ dishes, Trinket?” Johanna taunted.

“We were admiring the view.” Effie retorted, not rising to the bait.

“Must have been quite a view ‘cause your lipstick’s all over Haymitch’s mouth.” Seven’s victor challenged.

Haymitch immediately wiped his lips on the back of his hand, making the young woman cackle and the rest of them laugh. He flushed a little but simply shrugged, refusing to apologize for getting caught kissing his wife.

“It was nice to have you here.” Annie hummed when they all calmed down. “I hope Peeta will be able to come too next time.”

Katniss looked down, pretending to tug down the leg of April’s pants so it would cover her exposed ankle. The baby let out a sharp noise in answer. Haymitch couldn’t help a smirk even if the girl’s mood seemed to have turned sourer.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“Stop mulling over him, brainless.” Jo rebuked, nudging her with her elbow. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”

Uncomfortable, Katniss scowled. “It’s not _that_. It’s just… I’m not impatient to go back to Twelve. It’s all everyone’s talking about and with Delly around… It was nice to be away from the drama, that’s all.”

Haymitch could understand that. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table, thinking hard. The gossip rags were having a blast. Variants of _‘Are The Star-Crossed Lovers Splitting Up?’_ hit the headlines every day. Twelve ran on gossip. It was less invasive than in the city, certainly, but it was a small District and things got around fast. There weren’t much distractions to be had there other than the latest rumor.

“I’ll try to have a talk with Plutarch again.” he promised.

He wasn’t holding his breath on that, though. The former Gamemaker was helpful up to a point but, at the end of the day, Plutarch Heavensbee was only looking out for himself. And the speculations were good for business, it seemed.

“Don’t bother.” the girl muttered.

She glared at the table as if the wood had personally offended her.

He exchanged a glance with Effie. She had been doing so much better lately…

“Perhaps you can have a talk with Peeta when you are back?” Effie suggested with clear hesitation. “He _does_ miss you. Perhaps he realized…”

“I _really_ don’t care what _he_ realized.” Katniss snapped, cutting her off. “He wanted a break. _Fine_. We’re on a break. I really don’t want to talk to him right now.”

He and Effie shared another look. And a wince.

Great.

Katniss was angry now.

He couldn’t deny he had expected anger to kick in _much_ earlier and he couldn’t pretend she didn’t have good reasons to be furious but… He had hoped the kids would have managed to patch things up before the girl realized that. It wasn’t like Peeta didn’t have his reasons after all and while Haymitch disapproved of the way he had chosen to do things… If the two of them could just _sit down_ and have a proper conversation…

“Why are you going back at all?” Johanna asked in the resulting silence of that little outburst. “You’re free, yeah?”

Seven’s victor searched Haymitch’s eyes, looking for confirmation. He nodded, not quite sure what the younger woman was hinting at, not quite sure he liked it.

“Guess you could stay in Four a few more days…” he hesitated. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind. _At all_. Maybe they could just all delay their return to Twelve. After all, they had been having a really good time and… Yeah, he _really_ missed the boy and Snowball but…

“ _We_ really need to leave tomorrow either way.” Effie stated, having probably read his thoughts. “We have an appointment for April to get her first shots, remember? Doctor Larcher said it was important.”

They could probably push it back a couple of days.

_But_ it had been almost three weeks since April had her last medical check-up and… They were two paranoid people who wanted to make sure their daughter was and remained healthy.

“Katniss doesn’t need a minder.” Jo rolled her eyes. “And why _just_ stay in Four? Look…” Her voice faltered a little and she cleared her throat, brushing her fingers through Finn’s hair one more time. “I’ve been meaning to go back to Seven for a while now. Just a visit.” That was added defensively with a glance at Annie who was clearly hearing it for the first time. “Not long.” She turned back to Katniss. “Come with me.”

“To Seven?” The girl’s eyebrows shot up dubiously. “Why?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugged. “We can check out other Districts on our way, go on a road trip… Never saw much of Panem… Now’s the time.”

“Why do you want to go to Seven?” Annie frowned, growing agitated. “Are you leaving for good? When were you going to tell me? What will I tell Finn? He will ask after you. You _know_ he will. He doesn’t like it when I read him stories at night. He always wants you. You do the voices better and…”

“I _just_ told you, didn’t I?” Johanna cut her off. “It’s not forever, just a visit. There’s stuff left in my house back in Seven.” Her jaw was clenched in a stubborn expression. “It’s been three years. If I’m staying here for good, there’s stuff I want packed and shipped. Should sell the house too, I guess.”

“But you could do that from here…” Annie insisted. “Ask someone in your District or…”

“’Cause I want to _travel_.” Seven’s victor cut her off. “I need to take off for a while, okay? You and the kid, it’s…” She waved her hand in the hair in a frustrated gesture that could have meant everything and nothing. “Look, I’ll be home in a flash. You’ll be fine on your own. I’ll call every day, alright?”

Annie _didn’t_ look alright. She was worrying her fingers, her lips wobbling in obvious fear… Effie reached out and covered her trembling hands.

“You could come to Twelve with us for the duration of Johanna’s absence if you‘d prefer.” she suggested. “I can help you with Finn.”

Annie blinked and squeezed Effie’s hand with a small shaky smile but she shook her head. “He loves the sea too much. He would be unhappy if I took him elsewhere for too long. I… I will be fine.” It wasn’t exactly confident and she searched Johanna’s eyes. Seven’s victor nodded firmly and Annie cleared her throat. “I will be fine.”

It was stronger this time.

“So?” Jo asked, turning back to Katniss. “You’re coming with or what?”

“On a road trip across Panem.” the girl clarified. Haymitch didn’t really pay attention, focused on April who was finally falling asleep. He was _so_ sure that Katniss was going to say no that he had to do a double take when her whole face lit up and she shrugged. “Yeah… _Yeah_ , why not? I’ve got nothing keeping me home anymore.”

“ _Awesome_.” Johanna declared, cackling in delight. “You’ll see, you’ll forget lover boy before the first week’s through. Plenty of men to find on our way to Seven.”

Katniss didn’t quite look sold on _that_ idea.

Haymitch wasn’t sold on the whole idea _altogether_.

“I’m not sure it’s…” he started, making a face.

“She’s an adult and you’re not her father.” Jo cut him off before he could do something stupid like actually _forbid_ her to go. “She wants to come, she’s coming. End of the story.”

He glared at the younger woman. “Sorry if I’m a bit worried about sending my kid off into the world with _you_ for a guide. Not exactly the best influence, yeah?”

“Haymitch.” Effie sighed with a hint of warning, placing a hand on his arm.  

“What?” he spat, scowling at her. “Don’t tell me you think it’s a good idea.”

She clearly wasn’t pleased with the way he was talking to her but she looked more amused than annoyed. “I do not think it is _our_ place to decide.”

And yet Katniss was looking at him, very much glaring and sulking, about to claim she would go anyway no doubt, but also looking for some sort of consent.

He crossed his arms over his chest to hide his growing panic. “What if you get hurt?”

“We’re going on a road trip, not back to war.” Johanna scoffed.

“ _Shut up_.” he growled. Everything was _her_ fault anyway. And his. He should never have taken the girl to Four. He should have taken her in a place where there was no meddling friends who wanted to take her away from safety. If he couldn’t keep an eye on her, if he couldn’t make _sure_ she was alright… What if something happened and he wasn’t there to prevent it? What then? “Peeta _really_ sounded like he wanted to have a talk with you…”

It was a desperate measure.

And it was the wrong move, he saw it at once.

Katniss’ face closed off. “Good for him. I’m going with Jo. I’ll let him know when _I_ ’m ready to talk.”

“Katniss.” he warned firmly but Effie’s hand fell on his thigh and _squeezed_ in a threatening fashion. He glared at her but she simply lifted an eyebrow.

“Good for you!” Johanna laughed. “ _That_ ’s how it’s done. _We_ don’t need men. _They_ need _us_.”

Haymitch opened his mouth to protest but Effie squeezed his thigh again. “I believe you will find we have a consensus on this and you are outnumbered, darling.”

He sulked.

He spent the rest of the night sulking but it didn’t change anything. Soon, they were all discussing Katniss and Johanna’s plans and he was left to hold April close to his chest while she slept. At least, _she_ was on his side. And he could still keep her safe…

“It’s not gonna end well.” he grumbled later, once they had said their goodbyes and they were back at the resort. He tossed the sheets back and climbed into bed with obvious irritation. “Jo and Katniss left to their own devices in the wild is a recipe for disaster. Come on, sweetheart, say I’m wrong. I _dare_ you.”

She sighed softly before joining him in bed. Instead of settling against his side like he expected her to, though, she straddled his hips and placed her hands flat on his chest.

“Do you want my honest opinion?” she asked.

He snorted, his palms automatically coming to rest on her thighs. “Why ask when you’re gonna give it to me anyway?”

“True.” she grinned. “I think it will be good for Katniss. She won’t be alone but she won’t be with _us_ or _Peeta_ either. She will be on her own in a way. Am I making sense?”

She meant that Katniss had been relying on them or on Peeta since the war, that they had all been living in a closed tight circle, depending on the others to survive, heal and thrive… She meant that, before that, Katniss’ live had revolved around Prim. She meant that Katniss never really had an opportunity to do things for herself, by herself, and have some selfish fun. She meant that Katniss might use that opportunity to discover who she was without the rest of them.

It had crossed his mind.

It had also crossed his mind that it was exactly why Peeta had freaked out and had wanted some space in the first place: to find out who he was without Katniss so he could figure out who they were together. His attraction to the Cartwright girl might have been a trigger or an excuse, he wasn’t sure, but… At the end of the day, this whole mess was because those kids never really had an opportunity to _grow up_ into adults, not the traditional way anyway.

He still didn’t like it.

He hated the thought of his family being far from him.

“I hate it when you’re right.” he grumbled, prompting her to smile harder.

She leaned in to kiss him and then let her mouth trail down his jaw, his neck, his bare chest…

“Let me see if I can improve that _sour_ mood of yours…” she hummed, going down, down, _down..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there weren't too many typos left... I had a show last night, was in rehearsals all day yesterday and I proofread this morning but I'm really exhausted. 
> 
> Anyway... What do you think of this girl road trip the girls are taking? Will it be good for everlark? Is Haymitch right to be worried? Do you think they could have had a good life in Four? Let me know!


	44. 13 Weeks

Effie placed the dress wrapped in soft protective papers on the kitchen table, sparing a smile for Livy who was sitting on the floor, playing with her doll. She couldn’t help but imagine April in a few years. Baby Fanny was sharing the bassinet with her daughter, both mercifully sound asleep.

“Here you go.” she declared cheerfully but Eileen barely looked up from the sketchbook she had been peering at for what seemed like hours – since Effie had put the finishing touch to the dress she had promised her friend and excused herself to wrap it, at least. She was a bit self-conscious about letting someone who wasn’t Haymitch look at her designs but Eileen had been so enthusiastic about her creations that she had let herself be coaxed into it.

“Those are _amazing_.” the woman declared, finally closing the sketchpad to smile at her. “And _thank you_. I wish you would let me pay you…”

“You offer me free drinks often enough at your coffee shop.” she dismissed, putting the steaming kettle off the stove to pour them both some tea. She offered the little girl some orange juice that she accepted with an eager nod. “And they certainly aren’t _that_ exceptional.”

“Effie, I would _buy_ most of those.” her friend countered. “The kids ones are lovely. You really should think about opening a business… There’s a place to rent not too far from the coffee shop.”

She laughed, a bit embarrassed. “I have a three months baby… I do _not_ have time to open a business… And, really, it wouldn’t work and…”

“It _would_.” Eileen argued. “What do you have to lose?”

“Money.” she deadpanned.

Money that wasn’t _hers_.

If she had to be truly honest with herself what Eileen was suggesting had crossed her mind before. She had been toying with the idea of doing something with her sketches more and more since she had really settled in Twelve and it had been even more tempting after she had discovered she was pregnant because she had started drawing babies and toddlers outfits. She had sewed a few for her daughter and people always made compliments on them… They always made compliments on the dresses she made for herself too… And despite what her mother had always told her about her designs or her own lack of confidence in them… The thought of doing _something,_ of taking on a new adventure with something she loved, of going back to _fashion_ even at a modest level… Yes, it _was_ tempting and she had entertained the thought many times.

But it was a dream.

She had no savings left. She had _nothing_. And it had played a part in her longing to do something with herself because she had always been independent and being forced to financially lean on Haymitch didn’t sit well with her.

However, the crux of the matter was: for her to open a shop, she would need money, guaranties… She would need someone to partner with, an investor. 

She knew she could come up with a reasonable sound plan and she knew Haymitch would accept without a single blink because he had been telling her for _years_ that her designs weren’t that ridiculous – which, in Haymitch’s special language, meant he actually liked them – but Haymitch’s money, _their_ money, should have been saved and directed toward their daughter.

“It’s always a risk.” Eileen sympathized. “We put everything we had in the coffee shop. If it hadn’t worked out…” The woman shook her head and smiled at her oldest daughter who was oblivious to the conversation. She took a sip of her tea with a small smile. “You should talk it over with Haymitch. Maybe…”

“I don’t want to take Haymitch’s money. I took _enough_.” Effie cut her off. It was rude and she winced a little at her own behavior. Twelve was turning her into a _ruffian_. “My apologies, Eileen, but… You don’t know _half_ of it. He would _never_ deny me anything but I don’t feel comfortable taking. I was… I was in _a lot_ of troubles when I came to Twelve. He settled them for me and I never managed to repay him what I owe him.”

“You gave him a perfect daughter, I think that covers it.” Eileen joked lightly.

She appreciated her friend’s attempt at alleviating the suddenly serious mood. She brought her cup of tea closer to her lips, inhaling the rich smell of strawberry before taking a sip. It soothed her immediately. “He is a good man, you know.”

Sometimes she wasn’t sure everyone knew that. Haymitch was a terribly private man. For most people, even in his own District, he was _the victor_ or _the rebel mastermind_. He didn’t care about what the press printed about him, about the rumors… His reputation had taken a hit when gossips about them had first started circulating and it had plummeted when it had become more or less official that they were living together.

“I know.” Eileen reassured her. “And what about your father? With all the lands and buildings he bought he can probably give one to you…”

She made a face behind her mug.

She had tried to dissuade her father from investing _so much_ in Twelve. It was… _completely_ over the top. He had ended up buying the old mines from the government as well as a few buildings in town where some of the franchises his company owned were already getting settled… It was a long process and she wasn’t sure if it would turn out to be a good or a bad thing in the long run.

People in Twelve were instinctively mistrustful of anything _Capitol_ and if the candy shop had been an immediate hit, the other brands would have some work to do to get accepted. The lands outside of town though… It brought work and that wasn’t regarded as a bad thing.

Tadius had settled on an agreement with Twelve’s mayor so he would hire local men in addition to the construction crew the company usually used. It allowed a better quality of life for a lot of the poorest families and she was very happy for them but…

She didn’t like the thought of Tadius being so involved in her everyday life. It reminded her a bit too much of her childhood, of always being under her parents’ thumbs, forced to adhere to their code or…

“My father is ruthless in business.” she countered. “And I would rather _not_ ask him for money.” Her eyes darted to the clock. “Which reminds me he asked me to retrieve some contracts from the post office and deliver them to the Justice Building…”

She didn’t mind helping out in her father’s absence but the favors had been growing exponentially since they had come back from Four. Tadius was leaning on her a lot to close deals, sign things in his stead and keep an eye on the working crew’s progress… She could do it all easily but she _never_ had _any_ interest in taking over the company and she had no interest in becoming Twelve’s overseer either. And it very much felt like this, right then. As if he was grooming her to take his place, at least at a local level.

“We should head back too.” Eileen sighed. “Liam is alone at the shop and it will start getting busy around four.”

“Oh, I wasn’t chasing you away!” she protested, horrified that it was how it had come across.

“No worries.” her friend promised. “We can walk to town together.”

It took them a few minutes to get all the girls ready. Livy was eager to go home but April and Fanny were fussy, not happy to be transferred from the bassinet to their respective pram and stroller. Effie hesitated for a second before locking the house behind her, wondering if Haymitch would be back soon.

He had taken Snowball on a walk to try and get rid of a headache – and also, she suspected, because he didn’t want to be there for the fitting of Eileen’s new dress.

It was a nice day if a little too warm for her tastes. Days like this, she missed the Capitol’s controlled weather. It was either freezing or a furnace in Twelve.

She made sure the hood of the pram was shading April enough. The baby was drooling all over her own hand and she smiled despite herself.

“Do you have any news from Katniss?” Eileen asked distractedly when they passed by the bakery on the way to the post office.

“A postcard from Three last week and a phone call two days ago.” she sighed. “She seems to be having fun. They’re in Two right now.”

The road trip that was taking _forever_ and had turned into wandering at random all around Panem to throw off paparazzi appeared to be a good experience for the girl. Nevertheless, Effie missed her and wished she would come home.

“Is Peeta doing better?” her friend asked, making sure Fanny didn’t lose her grip on the bottle of water she was sucking from.

Peeta…

She felt rather sorry for Peeta.

The boy had been waiting at the train station with Snowball and a huge bunch of primroses. The bright smile on his lips had slowly but surely faded when he had realized Katniss hadn’t been traveling with them and it had finally disappeared when Effie had gently broken the news that his girlfriend-slash-possibly-ex-girlfriend had decided to go traveling with Johanna Mason.

Since then the boy had been _pinning_. There was no other word for it. She had noticed – and had rejoiced to the point Haymitch had shaken his head and had told her to calm down – that Delly wasn’t around as much as before at the bakery.

It could have gone one way or another really but Effie was selfishly _glad_ that absence had made the heart grow fonder instead of weaker. Now if only Katniss would come back and _actually_ tell the boy she _missed_ him instead of trying to punish him with petty offenses…

Katniss had apparently sent him a picture of her and Johanna in Two and given that Gale Hawthorne now resided there… Oh, she didn’t think the girl would make contact. She still held him responsible for what had happened to her sister but the message was clear all the same. It was so mean and guileful that Effie was certain it had been Johanna’s idea – probably Johanna’s _doing_ too. And she couldn’t say she approved. She couldn’t say that _at all_. It was stupid, childish and it wouldn’t help anything in the long run.

She had told Peeta not to mind but the boy _did_ mind.

It was difficult to get a hold on the girl. Katniss was the one who wrote and called when she chose, keeping track of hotels’ numbers that the victors left at random was too difficult otherwise.

“I think he’s regretting acting like a fool.” she offered eventually. “Although, to be fair, Katniss isn’t entirely blameless either. She _does_ take him for granted, I suppose.”

Eileen shot her an amused smile and shrugged. “Youth.”

“As you say.” Effie chuckled. “She will be back, though. She is angry and hurting but she does love him. _She_ never doubted that.”

“Those two have a very complicated history.” Eileen lamented as they stopped in front of the post office.

Effie agreed quietly and darted inside, leaving the pram to her friend’s careful watch. It wasn’t worth trying to make it fit through the old narrow doors of the building and though she felt a little jittery at the thought of leaving April even for a second it was a quick affair. She signed the package off, thanked the man behind the counter and was out before five minutes had passed.

They started walking in the direction of the Clarkes’ coffee shop. Effie would continue on to the Justice Building and, then, perhaps she would stop at the bakery on her way back. She was _craving_ a chocolate cupcake. She hummed and nodded at whatever Eileen was saying, her whole mind focused on the pastry she would beg off Peeta. Her fingers were drumming on the pram’s handle in anticipation.

They were right next to the coffee shop when she caught sight of the raucous crew of workers that had been dispatched from the Capitol, they were sitting at various tables outside. They were all strong muscular men, easily identifiable not only because they were strangers in a small District but also because of the familiar logo embroidered on their shirts. They were loud and clearly relaxing after the end of their shift.

She hadn’t met them all yet – and she had _no_ intention of getting more involved in her father’s business than she already was – but she _had_ met the foreman and she smiled back at him when he scrambled to his feet to nod at her because she was the boss’ daughter and it was sort of implied she was above him in the hierarchy of things.

“Good afternoon, Mr Smoth.” she said if only to be polite, her eyes traveling over the rest of the crew in a never forgotten reflex.

She had attended her share of company events and it had been drilled into her from infancy that employees were below her but should be treated with consideration. People who liked – or rather _revered –_ their employers were less likely to go search for jobs elsewhere. She hadn’t missed being the CEO’s daughter. She had made a name for herself at seventeen and it had pleased her greatly to be recognized for who she was and not for her parent’s name. Not former star actress Elindra’s daughter, not wealthy businessman Tadius’ daughter but…

She met familiar brown eyes and froze. Her heart started hammering painfully in her chest. Her palms became clammy. Her stomach churned. Tears stung her eyes.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t move.

She didn’t even realize why until she took in the whole face.

The young man’s smile froze on his lips and he immediately lifted his hands in the air, standing up…

She took a hurried step back, thought better of it and snatched April from the pram. Her arms were heavy, like they were made of lead. So were her legs. Her head was spinning. Her grip on her daughter was tenuous.

She registered cries. _April’s_. And it made her panic even further.

She took another step back, barely heard the calls of her name.

“Stay… Stay _the hell_ away from me.” she stammered.

The man’s lips were moving, saying things… Her name. _Effie._ As if he had _any_ _right_ to use her first name, as if… As if he hadn’t taunted her with the other one too. As if…

_Abernathy’s bitch_.

She flinched when the words flared in her memory and she took another step back, cradling her daughter closer to her chest.

She needed to keep April safe.

She needed…

A hand fell on her shoulder and she pushed the attacker away with a scream. The screams were _everywhere_.

Johanna’s.

Peeta’s.

Portia’s.

_Hers_.

She screamed and screamed under the lashes of the whips tearing off her skin.

Unflinching brown eyes bearing into hers from the other side of the room…

The Peacekeeper was advancing on her.

There were tables in the way, people who were trying to grab her… She fought them all. She needed to flee, to…

The baby’s crying was impossible to ignore and she screamed harder, all the while knowing it was useless because _nobody_ would come to her rescue.

She wasn’t worth rescuing.

She had _never_ been worth rescuing.

She wasn’t a victor.

She was just the escort Haymitch had used for sex.

And she would die there, in the torture chamber, like a beaten up dog.

She would disappear in the silence and the dark and nobody would _ever_ find her.

She would…

“Effie!”

The call of her name was too loud, the grip on her shoulders was too tight to be ignored and she met frightened blue eyes.

_Peeta_.

She gulped in air, realizing belatedly that she had been so busy screaming her head off that she hadn’t bothered to _breathe_ in a long time.

Dark spots were dancing in front of her eyes, tears were running down her cheeks…

A sob broke out of her throat but it was instinctive to push the boy back behind her. Like it had been back there. Like…

“Not him.” she begged, meeting the Peacekeeper’s eyes again. “Take me. Don’t hurt him. Don’t…”

The Peacekeeper passed a hand over his face, said more things she couldn’t hear…

And then there was a _roar_.

A roar of rage.

A roar of _hatred_.

Peeta darted past her and threw himself at the man, managed to punch him three times before hands grabbed him…

She needed to save Peeta.

She needed to…

But _April_ …

April was just a tiny baby and they would _kill_ her. Peeta wouldn’t be killed. Peeta was a victor. Peeta was precious. April… April had no value. They would take her away. They would crush her on the cold stones of the cell. They would…

She fought the people who were trying to hold her, she bit and claw with her free hand and kicked… And once she was free, once she didn’t feel any hand trying to keep her still…

She _ran_.  

She kicked off her heels and took off, cradling her precious load against her chest, urged on by the baby’s cries…

She was out of breath before she reached the end of the street but she couldn’t stop. Not to sob over leaving Peeta to his fate. Not to scream in fear and pain. Not to…

She ran and ran until paved streets left place to dust and then to rich earth…

The smell of the woods closed on her.

She tripped on a root and fell forward, managing to catch herself on one hand, not to crush the baby… She stayed on the ground for a while, trying to catch her breath, blinded by her tears…

_They’re coming_.

The thought came, unbidden, and she forced herself to sit. There was a long gash along her leg but she barely felt its throb. The sight of the blood though… They would hurt her worse. They _had_ hurt her worse.

She needed to keep April safe from them.

She couldn’t watch them hurt her baby. She _couldn’t_.

She had bad cramps, so bad that she was forced to walk bent in two. It didn’t matter. She walked on.

_Nobody escapes the Capitol_ …

_You think they will come for you?_

_Abernathy’s bitch…_

_Traitor._

This was all her fault. All her fault.

She tripped again, fell to her knees, and this time she didn’t manage to get back up. She was too dizzy. She felt like throwing up. She felt feverish.

She crawled to the closest tree, pressed her back against the trunk…

She would rest a minute and then she would run again.

She would go as far as she could, find somewhere safe to hide April…

“It will be alright, my love.” she whispered against the crown of her daughter’s head. “You need to be quiet. You need to be _quiet_ , sweetheart…”

But April was still crying at the top of her lungs and it would attract attention. She could hear the hounds in the distance already, the search dogs were barking…

They would lead them to the two of them.

They would…

“I won’t let them hurt you.” she promised, holding her tighter. “I promise. I promise I won’t… Just be quiet. _Be quiet_.”

If only April stopped crying…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admit it, you were missing the angst :p How much do you hate me? Do you think she will accidentally hurt April? Will that former Peacekeeper survive? Is Effie going to come back from that? Will she ever open a shop? Where is Haymitch? hahaha! So many questions, right? Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know!


	45. 13 Weeks (2)

Haymitch perused the summary of another paperback, wondering why thrillers always had to be so corny. He wanted a good mystery, a puzzle he could solve, not something unbelievably outlandish. But that was Capitol fiction for you, he figured.

He added the novel to the pile and moved on to the children section of the bookshop, dutifully followed by Snowball. The dog was panting, having exhausted himself running wild in the meadow earlier, and Haymitch decided he would stop by the bakery and ask Peeta for a bowl of water. With all that fur the heat was getting to the poor thing.

He picked a few colorful books a bit at random as he usually did. He liked reading stories to April at night. And, while she didn’t understand a word, she always fell asleep to the regular rhythm of his voice. It was never too early to instill a love for books in his opinion and he wanted his daughter to have a taste for it.

The teenager minding the cash register smiled at him when he placed his purchases in front of her. She worked there part time, liked chewing gum a lot and was very clumsy but Haymitch had developed a liking for her. She was always quiet and he appreciated that in people. Besides, he was a regular customer.

He was fishing around his pocket for his wallet when he heard the commotion outside through the closed doors of the shop. Snowball immediately started barking, _growling_ … Haymitch frowned but took the time to pay and grab the bag the girl handed him before going to check what was going on, not really worried. Twelve was a quiet District but brawls happened.

The screams were definitely _female_ though. And terrified.

Snowball shot down the street like a cannonball, his sparkly blue collar gleaming under the sun. Haymitch jogged after him, following the quickly forming crowd.

The screams had stopped by the time he arrived at the coffee shop but his heart missed a beat when he realized what was happening. He pushed through the mass of people, shoving the men with his shoulder when they were too slow to step aside and he glared at Liam Clarke and Tadius’ foreman who were struggling to hold Peeta back.

“The _fuck_ ’s going on?” he growled. Snowball crouched low and growled at one of the workers who was, for some mysterious reason, sprawled on the ground. Well, not so mysterious given his beaten face and Peeta’s obvious rage. “ _Boy_.”

It had been _months_ since Peeta had had an episode. He didn’t know what had triggered it but whatever the worker had done, the stranger was not being a problem now. Haymitch’s very big, very scary dog ensured that. The man was staring at Snowball and staying perfectly still, probably unwilling to give the Samoyed any reason to attack.

That suited Haymitch just fine for now.

“Move along! Nothing to see!” he barked at the crowd. Some of the women huffed and he rolled his eyes at them. It was probably one of them who had screamed themselves hoarse at the excess of violence. Eileen Clarke was clutching both her daughters to her chest, looking very pale, clearly shocked. He ignored her for now, framing the boy’s face in his strong hands and forcing him to look straight at him. “Peeta. _Calm_ _down_.”

Peeta was breathing hard, like an enraged animal. His blue eyes were glassy. He was red in the face… All signs of a classic episode. It took almost a full minute before the kid managed to focus on _him_ and stopped struggling against the hands that were holding him back. Once he was sure he had his attention, Haymitch let go of one cheek to squeeze his shoulder.

“Your name is Peeta Mellark. You’re in Twelve. The war is over. You’re safe.” he said slowly. “You own a bakery. You like painting in the evenings. You…”

“Haymitch.” Peeta cut him off, sounding impatient but not as disoriented as he had expected.

“Yeah.” he frowned. “Good boy. Take it easy now. You had an episode and…”

“He’s one of them. Real or not real? He’s one of _them_.” the kid shook his head. “Real. _Real_. _Real!_ ”

And he was back to struggling against the men holding him while Haymitch glanced at the injured man on the ground.

“One of what?” he asked, a dangerous hint in his voice. Snowball growled louder in answer, obviously only waiting for his order to attack. That was… _odd_. The dog was only _that_ threatening when… “Who _the fuck_ are you?”

The man looked ordinary. Brown eyes, one swollen shut, heap of equally brown hair, big nose… The rest of his crew was rallying behind him, hesitating…

“Look…” the workman said. “I didn’t mean any trouble. I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d run into them, okay? I…”

“ _Them_.” he repeated, his stomach churning. “Someone tells me what’s going on and _very fast_.”

Clearly, people still remembered it was best to be far away when he was in one of those moods because half the remaining onlookers left in a hurry. 

“Effie and I were just walking…” Eileen said suddenly, sounding distressed. “I… I don’t know what happened, Haymitch, she just started… She was _hysterical_.”

“Where’s she?” he asked immediately, his eyes only now falling on the abandoned empty pram.

“She ran.” Liam offered quietly. “We tried to hold her back but she… She took off with the baby. I told them to let her go I was scared she would hurt herself or April. She wasn’t responding well to people trying to catch her. And Peeta…”

“The kid just jumped on Al.” the foreman – Smoth, if Haymitch remembered right – complained. “Look, I know the woman’s the boss’ daughter but… Al didn’t do a thing. I swear. All my guys can swear. He didn’t do a thing. They both went crazy.”

“You don’t call my wife or my kid crazy if you don’t want to end like your guy.” Haymitch warned, his hands bundling into fists. His grey eyes traveled back to the boy. He was worried sick about Effie and April. _Worried_ _sick_. But he needed to _understand_. He needed to know what had triggered both her _and_ the boy. “You got yourself under control?” Peeta gave him a very shaky nod that Haymitch rewarded with a squeeze of his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“He’s one of _them_.” the boy snarled with unabashed hatred.

And Haymitch finally realized what he _meant_.

He let go of the boy and marched on the former Peacekeeper as if in a daze. The stranger scrambled back but he didn’t go far. Before he had moved a feet, Snowball had pounced, putting all his weight on the man’s chest, his jaws very close to catching his throat.

“You hurt my family?” he sneered, his hand automatically coming to rest on the handle of his knife.

“I didn’t… I didn’t have _a choice_!” the man – _kid_ , really, he couldn’t be much older than Peeta – stuttered. “You don’t understand! It was my job! I…”

He roared with anger, his mind flashing back to the last time he had found himself face to face with a man who had purposeful _hurt_ the ones he loved… He had killed then and he would kill now.

Or he _would have_ if Eileen hadn’t foolishly placed herself on his path, baby in her arms and little girl pressed tight to her leg. It probably was a testament to the trust the woman had in his wife that she didn’t doubt for one second he _would_ stop.

“I don’t know what’s going on but that’s really not going to help.” she said quickly.

“You step aside.” he hissed. “You’ve got no clue…”

“No, I don’t.” she cut him off. “But Effie was upset and she ran off with your daughter. _Maybe_ you should make _that_ the priority right now.” And she was right, of course. Very much right. She let go of Livy to press his arm. “He didn’t attack them. He _really_ didn’t.”

“You don’t know what he’s done.” he spat with a last dark look for the guy. “Snowball, down. _Down_.” The dog was reluctant to let go, as if sensing just what the man was guilty of. Once he was sure the Samoyed wasn’t about to rip his throat out, Haymitch turned back to Peeta. “You can go home by yourself?”

The boy was still staring at the former Peacekeeper over his shoulder but he gave him a nod. “He needs to leave. Next time… He needs to _leave_.”

“Oh, he’s gonna leave alright.” Haymitch promised. “Someone takes him to the Peacekeepers station. I’m not done with him.” His order was thrown at no one in particular but Liam immediately agreed. The foreman tried to protest, to argue _Al_ was a nice guy and a good worker, that Tadius Trinket didn’t do business like that, but one glare was enough to reduce the man to silence. “Where did Effie go?”

Eileen pointed in a vague direction but otherwise shrugged helplessly. She looked worried though. “She must have gone home, right? Where else would she go…”

Not home.

Not if she had snapped.

Not if she was having a flashback.

“Check the house.” he told the boy. “She’s not there, you stay home and wait, alright?”Peeta probably saw clear through that pretence but agreed and immediately left in the direction of the Village on unsteady legs. Haymitch, for his part, snatched April’s forgotten ragdoll from the pram and held it out for Snowball to sniff. “Find them. Be a good dog, you find your mama and April…”

“I’ll check around town.” Liam offered.

Haymitch barely listened, Snowball had dashed and he ran after him, hoping the dog had gotten the drift. He had never trained him to do that.

He found her abandoned heels at the end of the street. He picked them up in a reflex but didn’t stop to consider further. The dog was quick and it was difficult to keep up. His heart was pounding, he was out of breath and the headache he had had so much troubles chasing away that morning came back with a vengeance.

He paused and bent in two to catch a breath when Snowball darted to the woods, uncertain. Would she have run to the woods or was it just the dog’s whim? Huge flashbacks usually made her look for a safe confined place. It was paradoxical given how claustrophobic the war had made her but, in those instances, she sought something small that would remind her of her cell. Not the outdoors. Certainly _not_ the outdoors.

Snowball came back on his steps when he didn’t follow and barked in rebuke. The dog was agitated, dashing back through the bushes and coming back to him, almost snipping at his calves to make him _move_. He stopped wavering and followed.

He heard April from far away. His daughter had inherited her mother’s powerful set of lungs.

He breathed in relief at the baby’s cries. It hadn’t even occurred to him Effie might hurt their child but accidents happened, all the more so when you weren’t in control of yourself.

Snowball’s barking became joyful and Haymitch ran faster and shot past two bushes to find them huddled against the trunk of a tree, a little off the trail. She had gone deep into the woods for someone who didn’t have shoes.

“Effie?” he called softly. She was protectively curled up around their baby, her face pressed to the crook of their daughter’s neck… Her leg was bleeding, there was a long gash along her shin… “Sweetheart…”

She was unresponsive to Snowball’s comforting licking of her arm and face but when he crouched in front of her she flinched.

“Don’t hurt her, please…” she whispered frantically. “I’ll do anything… I’ll do _anything_ … I beg you… _I beg you_ …”

_April_. That was why she had gone to the woods. She had instinctively looked out for a way to _flee_ , to protect their baby.

“Nobody’s hurting the shrimp.” he said slowly. “I won’t let them. You know that, yeah? Princess… I won’t let them hurt you either. You know that too. That Peacekeeper’s gone. I’ll make him go. It’s gonna be fine. All fine.” She shook her head and curled up in an even tighter ball. He was afraid she would crush the baby. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna hurt April if you squeeze her like that… You don’t want to hurt April, yeah?”

He slowly reached out to caress their daughter’s soft blond curls, hoping to soothe the baby a little. If she stopped crying, Effie might relax. The wailing was part of the delirium now and it would be hard to snap Effie out of it, he could tell. As far as PTSD attacks went, this was a bad one.

“Please, don’t hurt her…” she repeated again, not even having heard him. “I’ll do whatever you want… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… I won’t fight… I won’t… I’ll tell you what you want to know… Yes… _Yes_ , I will tell you _all_ I know… Just don’t hurt her… Don’t hurt my daughter… _Don’t_ …”

“Alright.” he said, switching tactics and hating himself for it. But April came first. _Always_. “Alright. I won’t hurt her if you tell me what you know. But you need to give her to me. You give her to me and she stays safe. You hold on to her, she gets hurt…”

Effie’s tears were killing him but after a moment of hesitation and desperate kisses pressed to April’s head, she gave in.

“Forgive me… _Please_ , forgive me… I love you… I love you _so much_ …” she breathed against the baby’s skin.

She uncurled a little and Haymitch seized the opportunity to snatch the child she was reluctant to surrender. He moved back a little, just out of reach, to check April over. She didn’t look worse for the wear, just terribly upset by the ordeal. He rocked her gently, pressing kisses of his own against her wet cheeks. Relief was so earth-shattering he sat down.

“It’s okay, shrimp.” he murmured. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He looked up at Effie as he kissed their daughter’s head but she was catatonic, staring into space… Snowball had taken advantage of the sudden empty space in her arms to wriggle his way there. The dog was licking her face again, whining, trying to make her react. Haymitch hummed the familiar lullaby until April settled down. “There you go, sweetheart… We’re gonna go home… You just nap for a little while, yeah?”

April needed some water. It was hot and she had cried a lot, he didn’t want her to get dehydrated. However, that presented him with a conundrum. He couldn’t carry both the baby and his wife.

“Effie, sweetheart…” he called.

She didn’t respond in any way.

He could leave her with Snowball, carry April home, leave _her_ with Peeta and come back to fetch Effie. But with Peeta’s own episode so recent… No, that wasn’t an option and he didn’t want to let go of April, not even for a few minutes. They would have to make do.

He carefully moved closer to Effie. She didn’t even flinch this time. She was deep in her own mind now. Out of reach.

Her hair had fallen out of whatever hairstyle she had worn that day. He brushed the wayward strands away from her face. “Effie, I need you to come back to me.” Her blink was the only indication that she had even heard. “April needs you… Can you tell me who I am?” She closed her eyes and stubbornly pressed her cheek against the bark of the tree. “None of that.” he chided her. “Come on, sweetheart. You can do it. I _know_ you can. ‘Cause the shrimp needs you right now. You remember the shrimp, yeah? You remember our daughter.” The more he talked, the more she relaxed. She was matching her breathing to his, he realized, and that was good. That meant she was trying to break through. He just needed to ground her. “What’s her name? What’s our daughter’s name, Effie?”

“April.” she whispered, almost too soft to be heard.

“Very good.” he praised, adjusting his hold on the fussing baby in his arms. April wasn’t a happy camper right now. “How old is she?” Effie knocked her head against the trunk. She drew back to do it again but he wedged his free hand between her and the tree so her cheek landed against his palm instead. “You don’t need pain to ground you. Just follow my voice, sweetheart. Focus on me. How old is April?”

“Three…” she muttered eventually. “Three months.”

“Three months, yeah.” he confirmed “You’ve got a three months daughter so when are we?”

“Now.” she said, a little more firmly.

_Now_ was a good answer. _Now_ was in opposition to _then_. _Then_ was bad, very bad.

“Where are you?” he prompted.

“Twelve.” she breathed out. “With you. Safe.” Her face crumpled. “ _Not_ safe. _Not safe_. They’re here. They’re...”

“It was just the one and he’s being dealt with.” he cut her off. “He won’t come near you again. I promise.”

“Not safe.” she insisted, leaning in to press her forehead against his shoulder. “Need to keep the baby safe.”  

 “And you did.” he swore, dropping a kiss on each of his girls’ heads. “You did very well. But now I found the two of you and you’re both safe again, alright? So we need to go home ‘cause Peeta’s waiting there all by himself. You don’t want the boy to be all by himself when he’s upset, yeah?”

She shook her head. “We need to protect Peeta.”

“Yeah.” he agreed, feeling guilty about manipulating her like that. Need must, though. The priority was to get them home. “So I’m gonna need you to stand up and walk with me. You can do that for me, sweetheart? For the kids?”

She was hesitant when she nodded but he managed to put her shoes back on and help her up. She stood there for a second, a hand on the tree to steady herself, clearly dizzy… Her eyes were still lost in the distance, her mind wasn’t all quite there yet… He made sure April was secure in his right arm and he wrapped his left one around Effie’s waist, instructing her to lean on him.

They had only made four steps when she bent in two and threw up. On both of them. He made a face but waited until the heaving had stopped to nudge her to walk again.

She was sick three times on the way home. It was a nightmare. She was all weak and shaky against his chest and he ended up carrying her more than supporting her, an impossible feat with April in his other arm.

He was relieved when Peeta met him at the Village’s Gates. The boy looked himself enough that Haymitch entrusted April to him before scooping Effie up in his arms. They were back at the house in a matter of minutes.

The first thing he did was place Effie down on the couch to fix a bottle for April. Peeta told him he could handle feeding her. Haymitch was reluctant but the boy appeared confident and he trusted the kid to know his limits and not endanger his daughter. Still, he took a second to curse Katniss’ ill-timed absence. Four was a good number. There usually was always two people who remained sane enough to take care of the other ones. Three wasn’t good at all.

“You shout the moment you feel control slip.” he warned the boy. “I’m _serious_ , Peeta.”

“I know.” the kid answered. “I’m good for now, I promise. Take care of her and… Just take care of her. It was her screams, I… I would have handled it better if she hadn’t screamed like that… It was… It was like being back there. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to… I was back there.”

“It’s okay, boy.” Haymitch sighed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Effie didn’t so much as protest when he scooped her up again. She was a limp doll in his hands and she remained so even when he undressed her and made her sit in the bathtub so he could clean her up. The gash on her leg was deep enough that he considered calling Larcher but it had stopped bleeding and, in the end, he simply bandaged it. Her soles were hurt and he spent a long time cleaning all the small scratches.

Shaking hands reached for the tap while he was working on her left foot. “Bath.” was all she said. He ran her a bath, making sure the water wasn’t too hot given that she was already in the tub, and tossed enough of her sweet smelling products in there to make himself disgusted with the smell. It was strong and that was the point though. Anything that didn’t smell like rot or sickness. He also made sure she would keep her right leg out of the tub not to wet the bandage before seeing to himself.

He tossed his soiled shoes and pants out of the bathroom, knowing she didn’t need _that_ smell and quickly rinsed his feet and legs in the shower.

He glanced at the tub. She was calm for now, coming back to her senses… He risked a quick trip downstairs so he could dispatch the dirty clothes to the washing-machine and check on April. Peeta had placed her on her playing mat and was busy making the toys dangling from the plastic arcs cling together to get her attention. The baby was obviously tired, letting out small whiny noises and sucking hard on her pacifier, but she still reached out for the noisy things. The boy assured him they were alright and they _seemed_ alright – plus, Snowball was lying on the couch, peering down at them, so Haymitch relaxed on that front.

Effie didn’t seem to have moved since he had left but her eyes tracked him when he came closer to the bathtub and she didn’t protest when he lifted her up.

“My stomach hurts.” she whispered once he had toweled her dry and carried her back to the bed. Her voice sounded hoarse and he made a mental note to check what they had in term of tisanes that could help soothe that.

“Hurt how?” he frowned, opening the chest of drawers for some comfortable clothes. He came up with one of his old shirts she had long stolen and a pair of sweatpants with golden crowns he had bought her as a joke in Four.

“Like that night.” she answered tiredly.

“Care to be any more cryptic?” he mocked. His nerves were frayed, his hands were shaking and he was sure the moment nobody needed him anymore he would crash and have a panic attack of his own.

She let him slip his shirt over her head, helpfully lifting her arms for him like a child, apparently searching for the right words. It was good. The episode had been bad and it always took time to rail back from it but she _was_ coming back.

“The night I bled so much…” she clarified eventually.

He did a double take, the ridiculous sweatpants clutched in his hand. She didn’t seem in pain, certainly not as much as she had been _that_ night… But it was always hard to say when she was in that state. She didn’t feel things the normal way. Sometimes she felt phantom pain, stuff that had happened long ago just as if it was fresh, and sometimes real pain was impossible to detach from the dream-like quality of the flashback.

He only hesitated a second before checking between her legs though. There was nothing he hadn’t stared at before, nothing he hadn’t touched or licked.

“You’re not bleeding.” he promised, pressing a quick chaste kiss against her inner thigh before slipping the sweatpants up her legs. “And you’re not pregnant anyway so… You got _really_ upset, sweetheart… It’s probably just that.” It might not even be real, the pain she was feeling. She had been worried about April… It might have made memories of that night come back, that was all. And she had been sick earlier. She might be confused. “You want me to call the doctor, just in case?”

She shook her head and crawled up the bed, until she had her head on her pillow. “Can I sleep for a while?”

“Sure, sweetheart…” He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed her hair back. She met his eyes with an exhausted gaze and he forced himself to smirk. “You’re gonna feel better after you slept. Clear head and all.”

She forced a smile of her own but it was sad and a bit lost, as if she wasn’t certain at all what was going on.

“I love you.” she mumbled.

“Still wondering why, I bet.” he teased, leaning down to peck her lips.

He waited until she had drifted off to walk back downstairs, a plan forming in his head.

It started with a phone call to Plutarch…    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch and Snowball to the rescue! Haymitch really is the best hubby, isn't he? XD And Plutarch is in for a looooong conversation ;) That Peacekeeper better run fast and hard. Did you like it? What did you think? Let me know!


	46. 13 Weeks (3)

Effie woke up snuggled against a warm body and she smiled against the soft fur.

“You really should not be here, my pretty baby.” she chided, immediately making a face because her throat hurt. She opened her eyes, not quite surprised to find Snowball had made himself at home on Haymitch’s side of the bed. The dog really wasn’t a puppy anymore, he was big and he took a lot of room. Not that she really minded. She distractedly petted him, rubbing her face with her free hand, her eyes automatically checking the alarm clock.

 _Six: twenty-four_ pm.

She frowned.

Why had she been asleep in the afternoon? She sat up and let out a small groan when her leg started to throb. Cleary, her throat wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t quite right. Her head hurt, she felt a little dizzy and her stomach was unsettled. She must have felt off and decided to take a nap… She vaguely remembered Eileen coming to fetch her dress and then…

Snowball jumped off the bed, distracting her. At the speed he took off, she figured he was hungry or wanted to go out. It was nearing his usual walking time.

She picked up the baby monitor but it was completely silent. Haymitch must have kept April with him. She felt a pang at that thought and she couldn’t help the gnawing worry that made her stomach churn unpleasantly. She needed to find April, make sure she was alright…

She felt exactly like those few days after she had given birth when she hadn’t been able to bear having their daughter out of her sight.

However she had become better at controlling that, she reproached herself. She took a few deep breaths, not quite sure why her hands were shaking so much or why her heartbeat seemed to be erratic. 

She _really_ wasn’t feeling that well.

She used the bathroom, washed her hands and her face and then brushed her teeth for good measure. Cleanliness was next to godliness, or at least that was what Elindra always said. It didn’t really made her feel better. Her reflection looked back at her in the mirror over the sink, deadly pale. The throbbing in her shin finally worried her enough that she pulled up the leg of the sweatpants she didn’t remember putting on.

It was bandaged and her knee was scratched.

She dropped the fabric, unable to tell what had happened to her. _She had tripped on a root_ , she thought but that was ridiculous. She never went to the woods if she could avoid it. She took Snowball there sometimes during her daily jogs but she always stuck to the very edge where the trees were spaced out and roots were easily avoidable.

Maybe she had been in the backyard when she had started feeling faint, she mused. That was a much more likely explanation. She must have a cold or something, the flu perhaps. It would have explained the sore throat, the dizziness and the cramps. 

“You just need some tea.” she muttered at her own reflection, patting her cheeks to make herself look less pale – she didn’t want anyone to worry on her account. She made a quick job of braiding her hair back and making sure there was no trace of smudged make-up left around her eyes before she finally ventured downstairs.

She wanted to find her daughter but she was wary of whatever she had being contagious. She was quiet and avoided the creaking steps out of reflex, in case April was asleep somewhere. Her daughter wasn’t, that became clear once she was at the foot of the stairs, she could hear baby noises and more sounds coming from the kitchen.

She passed in front of the living-room and did a double take when she realized Peeta was asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, next to April’s playing mat.

“ _Yeah_.” Haymitch scoffed, apparently in answer to one of April’s sharp cries. “Bunch of idiots, the lot of them. You know what I’d do? Not going to tell you ‘cause… Well, not going to tell _you_ , shrimp, but your papa’s not a victor for nothing, don’t mind telling you _that_. Stupid politicians with their stupid…”

He stopped mid-rant when he realized Effie was leaning against the doorframe. April was in the baby seat on the table, sucking on the cat ragdoll’s ear when she wasn’t busy making random noises, not really interested by whatever Haymitch was saying.

Effie lifted a pointed eyebrow when she caught sight of the mess on the kitchen table all around their baby. It seemed Haymitch had gathered every vegetable they had in the house and had made it his mission to chop them in very small pieces.

“Why are you chopping carrots?” she asked.

He blinked, studied her for a second and then made a face. “’Cause it’s the only thing they’re letting me chop.”

“ _They_.” she repeated, confused. She shook her head and went straight for the kettle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I must have come down with something… I’m sorry to ask but do you mind taking care of April by yourself tonight? I don’t want to risk passing whatever bug it is to her…” She put the kettle to boil, rummaged in the box full of tea bags for a flavor that would relax her and then dropped it in a mug she fished from the drying rack. “What happened to Peeta? Is he feeling sick too?”

Haymitch had stopped maiming his carrots to watch her attentively. He seemed guarded to her, almost careful. “He fell asleep playing with the shrimp. He had… an episode, remember?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder with another frown. The information was right there in her head, she knew it was, but for some reason she couldn’t access it. And she had learned from experience that when something like that happened, there usually was a good reason why her mind didn’t want her to remember.

She slowly licked her lips and turned to the fridge. She wasn’t really aware of taking the chocolate ice cream tub from the freezer or even grabbing a spoon from a drawer. It was hard and she was forced to stab it a few times to be able to eat some.

“Effie.” Haymitch called in a soft voice.

She still startled.

“I’m sorry I…” she hesitated. “I feel out of sort.”

The ice cream was doing some good to her sore throat though.

“Yeah, I bet.” he snorted without any amusement. He looked grim actually. “It was a bad one.”

“A what?” she asked, reaching out to turn off the stove and pour water in her mug. Her hands were unsteady and some water splashed on the counter. She pretended she didn’t notice and relocated mug and ice cream to the table. She felt better once she was sitting down next to Haymitch, April in her line of sight. Her daughter was staring at her with her bright blue eyes. Effie waved at her with one of those silly faces the baby loved so much and April gave her one of those delighted little smiles.

“A flashback.” Haymitch said after a few seconds, covering her hand. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Do I _want_ to remember?” she joked but it wasn’t as light as she made it sound. She had a feeling she would be happier if she kept on thinking she was sick. “I really don’t feel that well.” He stole the spoon and some ice cream. She saw it for what it was: an evasion, a delay… She took a small sip of her tea and sighed. “What was the trigger?”

“You walked Eileen back to the coffee shop…” he explained with obvious reluctance. “The work crew was there…”

“The work crew…” she repeated, snatching the spoon back from him. She was confused. What would her father’s work crew had to do with… And then she remembered… _Brown eyes_ … Her breathing became shallow…

“Stay with me.” Haymitch demanded firmly. “Effie. I’m here. You’re safe.”

“I know.” she said through the ringing in her ears. She kept her eyes on her daughter and forced herself to breathe. Everything else was a blur. She remembered seeing the Peacekeeper. She _vaguely_ remembered Peeta… Then… April was waving her arms in the air, unhappy because she had dropped the ragdoll and nobody had noticed, her little face scrunched in annoyance – that, or maybe she was pooping, Effie always teased Haymitch by telling him her pooping face was an exact replicate of his sulking one. It was silly but it helped her stay focused. “Was it _terribly_ embarrassing?”

She had been in public when she had lost it.

He shrugged. “Not really the important part, sweetheart.”

He told her what happened afterwards with care, clearly not sure simply recounting it wasn’t about to trigger anything. To be honest, she barely had any recollection past the initial shock of finding herself face to face with one of her former jailors.

“It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” she commented, feeling strangely detached. She kept on spooning little amounts of ice cream as if it was a remedy to all her problems. She wasn’t even hungry, she didn’t know why she was eating. She supposed her body was just craving something sweet and sugary to bounce back from the ordeal. “Low-ranked Peacekeepers were released.” She closed the tub of ice cream and wrapped  her hands around the mug instead. “Do you know where… Do you know where _he_ went?”

Because she wasn’t leaving the house _ever_ again if that was man was out there. It wasn’t something she could face. Clearly if Peeta’s instinct had been to attack, hers had been to flee. And she had been _lucky_. She could have hurt April. She could have…

“That’s the thing.” he spat, grabbing his knife back to violently chop another carrot. She absent-mindedly thought they were going to eat vegetable soup for a week. “Had them drag him to the Peacekeepers station while I was looking for you… Called Plutarch… Made a _fucking_ fuss… Managed to talk to _Paylor_ … You believe they left me to hang? _Fucking_ politicians…”

“Language.” she rebuked, taking a sip of her tea. She was so tired… She felt… _removed_ from the situation. “So?”

“So _legally_ they can’t keep him in custody.” he snapped. “And when I told them I’d take matter into my own hands…”

“You _won’t_.” she cut him off quickly, stilling the knife he was wielding by placing her hand on his wrist. “I am serious, Haymitch.”

It took him a long moment to look up at her and, when he did, his grey eyes were _hard_. “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”

“And end up in prison for it?” she retorted. “We aren’t at war anymore.”

“Aren’t we?” he sneered. “’Cause those assholes are walking free and…”

“So am I.” she whispered. He opened his mouth but she shook her head, squeezing his wrist. “For a lot of people, it is the very same.” And it wasn’t even the point anyway. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “I don’t want you killing anyone for me. I know what it does to you and I won’t… Not for me, Haymitch. Not for…”

She was getting upset. There was a lump in her throat and tears burning her eyes she hastily blinked away.

“Okay.” he said hastily. “ _Okay_.” He ran his fingers in his hair, clearly at a loss. “I’ll just… I’ll talk to him. _Maybe_ punch him a little _, that_ ’s alright, yeah? As long as he’s still breathing at the end of the chat that’s really not…”

“Haymitch, _no_.” she hissed. “Let’s just… I will call Father. He will have him transferred elsewhere. _Peacefully_.”

Haymitch obviously wasn’t sold on that approach. His hands were gripping the carrot and the knife so tight his knuckles were white. “That guy hurt you and the boy. You’re asking me to…”

“Yes, I _am_.” she cut him off firmly. They glared at each other until she averted her eyes. “I need you. Punishing that man won’t bring me any peace, you will end up in _jail_ and what will _we_ do?” She jerked away from the table and walked around him to pick up April. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. “She needs her diaper changed.”

“I can…” he offered.

“I will do it.” she snapped. She stopped on the threshold but didn’t look back at him. “I don’t want you doing that sort of things for me. It is one thing to defend me, to _protect_ me, but what you are suggesting… You are angry, I know…”

“Try _furious_.” he countered.

“Furious, then…” she amended. “But this happened to _me_ , not to you and…”

“When you run off in the wood with my daughter because those assholes hurt you so bad you can’t tell reality from memories anymore, it’s about me too.” he retorted, harsh.

She closed her eyes, her arms tightening around April. He was right of course. And he was right to be furious with her. If she couldn’t be trusted to be alone with their baby…

“If I had hurt her I would have killed myself.” she confessed softly. “You have to know that. I…”

There was a clatter and she turned around in time to see that he had bolted from the table to march toward her. She instinctively took as step back but she didn’t go far, she was engulfed in his arms. He didn’t hold her too tight, not with April trapped between them, but the embrace was firm enough. His breathing was quick and loud too and she realized she hadn’t been the only one battling with their inner demons.

“I never meant _that_.” he growled. “I never thought _that_. It’s not with _you_ I’m furious. It’s this whole thing. It’s…” He shook his head and pressed a long kiss against her temple. “You protected her, sweetheart. Even at the worst of it… You’d never hurt the baby. Never. You’re her mama. Even when your mind’s not quite here, you know that. Instinct, yeah? I never doubted that. _Never_.”

She relaxed a little against him, a weight lifted from her shoulders. “I’m really tired.”

It didn’t feel like she had slept half the afternoon away.

He pressed another kiss against her head. “I can take care of the shrimp… You should get some more rest, yeah?”

She hesitated and then refused with an apologetic smile. “I want to keep her close.”

“Alright.” he humored her, brushing his hand against her cheek. “Aside from being tired, you’re good? How’s the leg?”

She didn’t think it was bleeding anymore but she wasn’t about to check. Just in case. The less blood she saw, the better.   

She wasn’t exactly _peachy_ but the ice cream and the tea had gone a long way into making her feel a little better. She discreetly rubbed her stomach with her free hand, aware something was… _odd_ on that front but unable to pinpoint what exactly. She was still slightly dizzy but she thought it would pass soon if she remained calm. Her blood pressure was probably skyrocketing. 

She reassured him as best as she could and kissed him, sending him back to the kitchen so he could do something productive for dinner with all those chopped vegetables. The more rational she acted, the calmer he seemed to get so she pretended to be perfectly fine and back to normal.

She took April upstairs, changed her diaper and took some time to play with her. Her daughter wasn’t really interested in playtime though. She had had a difficult day too and she was a little fussy. She sat in the rocking-chair and cuddled her close, humming the now familiar _“Hush little baby don’t you cry…”_ tune until she fell asleep.

Leaving her in the nursery was much more than she could bear though so she carefully took the sleeping baby downstairs and placed her back in the baby seat. Haymitch seemed unfazed by that. He flashed her a small smirk that didn’t reach his eyes and stirred the vegetable soup that was cooking in the biggest pot they owned.

She plastered herself to his back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, and slowly breathed out.

“I love you.” she said in a quiet soft voice.

She had spent so many years swallowing back those words. She knew how uncomfortable they made him feel, knew he was still a bit uneasy with them… But it felt _good_ to say them out loud. Good to…

“I love you too.” he said slowly, purposefully. It was still difficult for him, she knew that and she appreciated it even more for it.

She completely relaxed against him. Those words were a magical balm on festered wounds. They made her feel strong. They made her feel…

“I’m sorry I worried you.” she offered again. “I…”

The knocking on the front door was unexpected and they both froze, listening to Snowball barking loudly from the backyard, echoed by the geese’s honking.

“Stay here.” Haymitch muttered eventually, detaching himself from her to leave the kitchen.

Naturally, she didn’t obey. She made sure April was still asleep and then rushed to check the living-room where Peeta was still sprawled on the floor, dead to the world. Haymitch had already opened the door by that time and he tossed her an annoyed glance when he realized that she hadn’t followed his instructions.

“Mr Smoth.” she greeted flatly when she caught sight of the foreman.

Her father’s employee was clearly ill-at-ease and Haymitch didn’t make it any easier for him. “What do you want?”

“I’m glad to see you seem to be feeling better, Mrs Abernathy.” the man said politely after clearing his throat, looking anywhere but at her. Haymitch ought to step aside and invite him in but he stood firmly between her and the foreman, his hand on the door, blocking the path. It was rude. She didn’t point it out and remained behind him, wary of the rest of the world. The construction worker seemed to realize that because he buried his hands in his pockets and winced. “Look, I’m not quite sure what happened earlier but… Al quitted. He’s at the train station right now. He’s leaving so… He doesn’t want any problem, you see? He wanted me to tell you he’s sorry for any discomfort caused.”

“Sorry for any discomfort?” Haymitch repeated in a low threatening growl.

Effie fisted his shirt at the small of his back, as much to potentially hold him back as to draw some comfort from him.

“Thank you for informing us.” she answered quietly.

“Sure.” Smoth nodded, pulling a creased envelope out of his pocket. “He gave me this for you.”

She stared at the envelope he was handing her, making no move to take it.

“We want nothing from him.” Haymitch refused.

The foreman flinched at the obvious fury in his voice but shrugged. “I don’t know… I don’t know what it’s all about but… Al’s a good kid. _Really_. Hard worker. Never complains. Whatever it was…”

“He’s a Peacekeeper.” Haymitch spat with the same hatred in his voice some people put in her former title.

“With all due respect, sir, we’ve all got a past.” Smoth countered, placing the envelope on the old bench on the porch. “Good night.”

Haymitch slammed the door shut with obvious irritation.

It had the double disadvantage of waking up both April _and_ Peeta.

She pursed her lips and tossed him _a look_ but aside from looking vaguely guilty he refused to apologize. They bickered over his inability to close doors properly while she tried to get April to settle back down. Peeta looked very dazed and a bit nauseous but he sat down at the kitchen table and waited for dinner to be ready.

Nobody mentioned the Peacekeeper or what had happened that afternoon.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad night.

And if Peeta hugged her a little too tight after dinner and if she ran her fingers through his hair with a little too much affection… Nobody said anything out loud.

They exchanged quiet goodnights and she cleaned the table to do the dishes, like every other night. Haymitch offered to do it but since he had spent hours chopping, she figured it was her turn to do some chores. Besides, she didn’t mind the repetitive pattern of it. She let him carry April to the nursery after the mandatory goodnight kiss and went to work with Snowball sprawled at her feet. The boiler started protesting not long after, sure sign that Haymitch had commandeered the shower.

Perhaps, they should get that fixed, she mused, it certainly made a racket.

When she was done with the dishes, she relocated to the porch with the chocolate ice cream. She had vaguely hoped the wind would have taken care of the letter but the creased envelope was still there and Effie picked it up with a small sigh.

Did she want to open it?

She wasn’t sure.

She watched the lights in the neighbor’s houses going out one after the other, spooning the ice cream without even realizing it. She was distracted, a bit on edge.

“Never seen you eat that much sweets in one day.”

She startled and looked up at where Haymitch was leaning against the front door’s frame. He was wearing low sweatpants – that, she was sure, would be discarded as soon as he would reach the bedroom – and nothing else. It was as improper as it got to wander outside looking like that. _Sex on legs_. It ignited a spark on interest in her but she was so tired she doubted she would have been able to see anything through.

She glanced down at the ice cream tub on her lap and frowned. “I am not really sure why I keep eating that.”

She had never been a stress-eater. Her mother would never have allowed it for one thing.

Eating had been so problematic since the war… Even things she used to love… Even when she had been pregnant it had been a struggle… And there she was that day, eating gallons of ice cream as if she didn’t already have an upset stomach on top of it.

“Comfort food.” he suggested with a shrug.

“Perhaps.” she hummed.

He pointed at the envelope next to her with the hand that was holding the baby monitor. “You’re gonna open that?”

“I don’t know yet.” she answered honestly.

His face closed. “You don’t _have_ to. You know that, yeah?”

She nodded slowly and then flashed him a small smile. “You should go to bed. You look ready to collapse.” He was about to protest, she could see it clearly. “I am fine, Haymitch. I promise.” Snowball swept past him and hopped on the bench next to her to place his big head on her lap, pushing the ice cream to the side. Apparently it was dog cuddle time. It made her chuckle. “Look, I have my bodyguard with me. I will be fine and I won’t be long. Go to bed.”

She outstretched a hand and, after a short moment of hesitation, he placed the baby monitor in it before leaning in. The kiss wasn’t exactly chaste or short but she didn’t complain.

She spent a few minutes humoring the dog, petting, scratching and hugging him until he was clearly over it and simply fell asleep right there as if she were the perfect pillow or as if he could still fit in her lap.

The envelope was still glaring at her.

She picked it up with a small sigh. Who was she kidding? She had never been able to resist _information._ Information was power. It could be used and abused. Whatever was in that letter… She needed to know.

She braced herself for something upsetting when she opened it. She told herself the content wouldn’t matter, that she wouldn’t let it. Still, she wasn’t entirely prepared for the unsteady scribbles.

_I know it won’t matter much to you and I know I’ve got no right to ask for your forgiveness but I’m really sorry. They told us we were doing our duty. That was bullshit. It wasn’t right what happened, what we did. I know now. I knew then to be honest. I should have said something, done something… I’m a coward. Comes down to that. I’m a coward and I did what they told me and some days I forgot why it was wrong and it makes me feel sick to think about what I became and I’m sorry. Can’t say how much. _

_I really didn’t think being in Twelve would be a problem, I thought I could avoid you. It was stupid of me. I’m leaving. You won’t ever see me again, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way. I owe you this at least._

_I’m really sorry. For everything._

_Al Terson_

Her first instinct was to tear the letter until there was nothing left.

She folded it and placed it back in the envelope instead. She would give it to Peeta in case he wanted to read it, in case he could find some peace in those words.

She didn’t.

That Peacekeeper’s guilt, his regrets… They were his story, not hers. She could understand on some level, she had her own regrets, had done her own share of unforgivable things, but she wouldn’t feel sorry for him, not when he had been one of the men who had tortured her to near insanity.

She was careful to remain quiet when she came back inside and made sure everything was locked for the night. Snowball padded to his bed in the living-room and she went upstairs, pausing long enough in the nursery to check April didn’t need her.

“I love you.” she whispered to her daughter, gently brushing her fingers in the soft blond curls on her head. She would have a mane later, Effie decided, just like hers. She hated her own hair so much… But it would look fabulous on their baby, she was sure of it. April could never be anything short of perfect. She brushed her finger against the little palm, happy when the baby closed her fist around it by reflex. “Mama loves you so much…”

It scared her how much sometimes.

She would move mountains for her child.

It took her a long time to tear herself away from the sight of her sleeping baby.

Haymitch, as she had guessed, had discarded the sweatpants and was sprawled in the middle of the bed on his stomach, naked butt peeking out of the sheets. It made her smile. She got rid of her own pants, never having been one to be constricted in bed, and made a short stop in the bathroom before joining him.

He grumbled a little when she pushed him to have some room.

“Move or I will be forced to sleep on top of you.” she threatened.

He opened heavy eyelids, sneaked an arm around her waist, rolled on his back and brought her down with him. She _did_ end up on top of him but her shriek and her laughter woke him up for good.

“You’re a pain.” he muttered.

“Am I?” she hummed, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah.” he confirmed. “Good thing for you I like it.”

She chuckled and he snorted. His fingers made a quick work of undoing her braid and he petted her hair, lulling them both to sleep.

“I will probably have nightmares tonight.” she warned softly. And she _wasn’t_ looking forward to that but she knew her body and she knew she had reached her limits. If she tried to remain awake… She would crash soon anyway.

“Yeah. Me too.” he admitted.

That was a warning of its own. If he had a nightmare, she needed to be ready to get out of bed or risk getting hurt. She wondered if there would come a point in their lives where they wouldn’t be afraid of what their sleeping selves might do to their partner.

“I read the letter.” she confessed after a few minutes.

He didn’t answer at once and she thought he had fallen asleep. Up until he dropped his head against hers, at least. “Did it help?”

“Not really.” she sighed. “But I will be alright. It might be bad for a few days but… I will be alright. I just wished I could handle this sort of things better. Sometimes I feel as if I made absolutely no progress since the war.”

“Yeah… No.” he scowled. “You’re _definitely_ doing better. That’s just a setback.”

“I know.” she hummed, nuzzling his neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My job.” he countered with pride and affection. His hand covered hers on his chest and briefly played with her wedding ring. “How long do you think before April starts crawling?”

She welcomed the change of topic.

Their daughter had been figuring that out lately and she didn’t think it would take long at all. She fell asleep halfway through describing just how clever a baby they had.

As far as she was concerned, it was the best way to go. 


	47. 14 Weeks

“When are you coming back?”

Haymitch figured someone had to ask because Effie was all about the _live and let live_ approach on that subject. Katniss sighed in the phone. He could hear noises on her side, someone was moving stuff in the distance, probably Johanna packing up her house. They had _finally_ made it to Seven – talk about taking the scenic road – so he guessed she wouldn’t be away for too long now.

He desperately wanted her to come back to Twelve where he could keep an eye on her.

The incident with the Peacekeeper had made all his fears rear up their ugly heads. He was back to being paranoid, suspicious of everyone. The thought that some of the people who had hurt his family were free and running around… It kept him awake at night. And despite everything Effie had to say about it, he regretted not killing the man when he had had the chance.

It _would_ have landed him in prison though, she had a point about that. And not seeing April grow up… No, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it but it was a _damn_ shame.

He knew he was hovering but he couldn’t help himself. He checked on Peeta at the bakery twice a day and stayed with Effie as much as he could – which meant until she got fed up and told him to give her space, something that usually ended up in a fight of epic proportions that only April’s crying could break.

It hadn’t been an easy week.

And he wanted Katniss back.

He wanted to stop worrying about someone getting the jump on her while she was at the other side of the country.

“ _I don’t know.”_ the girl admitted. _“It might take a while to pack and we were talking about swinging by Eleven_. _I wanted… I thought I could check on Rue’s family._ ”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the kitchen wall. He wanted to tell her to forget about that and come home but…

“You’re careful, yeah?” he insisted needlessly. “ _Both_ of you.”

There was another sigh, clearly more irritated this time. _“We’re_ fine _. We can take care of ourselves, Haymitch. We’re big girls.”_

They were _adults_ even and he knew that. He simply wasn’t sure how to handle it. His job was to protect his girl, wasn’t it? The feeling hadn’t stopped when she had reached eighteen and it certainly wasn’t going away now. 

“If you _do_ swing by Eleven… It’s a big District, chances are slim but… Can you look up Fay Mitchell? That’s Chaff’s sister… Guess I should have made contact sooner but…” he hesitated. “You know.”

He wasn’t sure it would be particularly well received. Fay had a temper and her brother was dead when Haymitch was still walking around.

 _“Sure.”_ Katniss agreed at once.

“If she needs anything or… Her sons maybe. I know she’s got sons…” He made a face, feeling ill-at-ease. “You let her know she can ask, yeah?”

“ _I will.”_ the girl promised. She understood, he supposed, she was going to do the same for Rue. _“Plutarch’s being annoying. Can you give him a call? If he asks one more time if we’re interested on going on an official Panem Tour, Johanna’s going to get on a train to the Capitol just so she can strangle him. And I won’t stop her this time.”_

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “You inspired him with your little road trip. Should have left well enough alone.”

The Mockingjay’s travels regularly appeared in the press and on various news channels. Her moving at random made it difficult for them to anticipate where she would turn up but it had became a sort of game by now.

For the government, it was a heaven sent distraction to the debate about private clinic versus national healthcare rights. The fact that some Capitol private structures were using technology acquired while experimenting with Mutts to grow perfect tailored organs for wealthy people who needed them when the rest of the population had to go on a national waiting list and make do with transplants that weren’t always successful had brought up the debate about the wealthy being above the law. Peeta was fervently opposed to it and it had made for more than a lively debate at the dinner table lately.

Truth be told, the question had been bouncing around for months now and Haymitch thought it was much more complicated than simply labeling it right or wrong. His own main objection was the Mutt thing, it wasn’t natural and it made him shudder just to think of it even if their success rate was ninety percents. Should the technology be shared with everyone? Sure. But he could see Paylor’s problem. If that option was only available to the elite it was because it was very, _very_ expensive and financing it for the whole country would have lead Panem to bankruptcy. And the same went for other medical procedures that weren’t out there for everyone but that could save lives. It was either giving everyone a fighting chance or selecting a lucky few if the national healthcare was to hold.

It was a huge debate, elections would be coming in a little less than two years and the opposition was having a field day dragging Paylor. So, yes, Plutarch had seized the story of the Mockingjay popping around Panem with pleasure. It was never too bad for their approval rate to remind everyone who had fought in the war and who had not and Katniss was the perfect way to do that.

Of course, the Secretary of Communication would have preferred for the whole thing to be entirely supervised and organized by the government. A sort of modified Victory Tour that had Haymitch cringing as soon as the Capitol had mentioned it.    

 _“I just wish they would leave all of us alone.”_ Katniss grumbled. “ _You’ve seen their last one?”_

If she referred to that morning headline, he _had_ in fact seen it. Apparently people were wondering if she had left Peeta for Johanna now.

“You tell me if I need to give Johanna a talk about not hurting your feelings, sweetheart.” he teased.

The girl scoffed with some amusement and then cleared her throat. _“How’s Effie?”_

The question was tentative.

He was tempted to snap that Effie would have been better if the girl had been there because she was just as paranoid as he was those days. He bit that back. It wasn’t Katniss’ fault after all and it wouldn’t have been fair.

Effie and Peeta freaking out in the middle of the town had _also_ hit the newspaper, naturally. At first, they had speculated that Peeta had had one of those episodes that had sent him in a clinic after the war – the tracker jacker’s venom thing was known, there had been no way to keep that private with so many rebels aware of the situation – and that Effie had simply been afraid for her daughter. Then, it had come out that Effie had been the one to freak out first and that had triggered speculations about her own mental health. And then, of course, someone had finally ferreted out that the man who had started it all was a former Peacekeeper – although blissfully unavailable to comment – and now all the gossip rags were in a frenzy about why that would send Effie screaming. Peeta, they understood but _Effie_?

It had brought back to light the whole debate about what had really happened to her during the war and why the rebels and the government had been so closed off about it. It had raised questions that hit a little too close to home.

It had been dying down in the last couple of days and Haymitch didn’t give it two more days before they all moved on to another scandal but it had been rough.

Effie hadn’t stepped out of the house further than to go to the mailbox for more than a week. She was having nightmares that kept them both up at night – and when she managed to get rest, it was his own night terrors that kicked in. She was obsessively cleaning the house every day. He sometimes caught her looking in the distance as if she had completely forgotten where she was…

Being around their daughter helped her a little but it wasn’t a magical remedy. She had been smiling more in the last few days though. She looked a bit calmer too, less on edge. He took it to mean they had weathered through the worst of it.

“Better.” he offered. “It’s your niece you want to ask about.”

Katniss snorted. _“Alright. How’s your precious daughter, Haymitch?”_

“She crawled for the first time three days ago.” he said, so pleased by that information he flushed.

Well… _They_ called it crawling. Peeta had tactfully pointed out there wasn’t much moving involved. However, April managed to roll on her stomach and move maybe half an inch forward and that was already _huge_ so it _was_ crawling in his book.

He couldn’t believe she was already four months. Only just, of course, but still… Four months almost to the day since Effie had given birth. Four months since his life had drastically changed. Four months and he was _so_ _happy_. He thought it wasn’t fair sometimes, how happy he was. Surely he didn’t deserve it… But he wouldn’t change it. Not for the world.

 _“You’re gonna burst with pride.”_ Katniss mocked, openly laughing at him.

He shrugged, a bit annoyed but not enough of a fool not to see she was right. “What can I say… My girls always make me proud.”

Katniss softened at the end of the line but he could feel the awkwardness creeping in a little. She wasn’t one to accept a compliment gracefully and he wasn’t in a habit of giving them so freely.

It was just that he felt stupidly sentimental lately.

April had made him soft. 

 _“And… How’s Peeta?”_ she asked with enough detachment that it sounded very fake. He could hear the yearning in her voice. Hidden but not quite well enough.

“Miserable.” he replied cheerfully even if it was just as fake as her apparent disinterest. “Wasn’t that the point? That boy misses you like crazy.”

“ _You know it’s not like that.”_ she muttered.

“Do I?” he taunted. “Give him another week and he’s gonna go after you himself.”

He could almost _hear_ her rolling her eyes. “ _No, he won’t. Not if he knows what’s good for him. I’ll come back when I come back.”_

“Think he learned his lesson, you know.” he insisted. “Maybe you can let him out of the doghouse now…”

 _“He’s not in… What the fuck are you even talking about?”_ she sighed. _“Look, it’s not just about Peeta, okay? It’s about me too. This trip is great.”_

He could understand that, he admitted. At her age… If he had had the means and the freedom to do it, he might have liked visiting Panem at his own leisure.

“I’m impressed you haven’t killed Jo yet.” he joked.

“ _Me too.”_ Katniss scowled. _“Speaking of, I need to go make sure she’s buying actual food or we’ll just have alcohol for dinner. She drinks more than you do.”_ She must have realized what she had said because she backtracked quickly. _“Used to.”_

He frowned. “Yeah? That’s a problem? ‘Cause…”

Johanna, not unlike him, had a tendency to turn to derivatives to bury her problems.

 _“Don’t think so.”_ she answered, a little wary. _“I think she’s just enjoying not being around a three years old for a change. I’m keeping an eye on her anyway.”_

“Okay.” he sighed, letting it go. It wasn’t like he could do much about it at the moment. “Be careful, sweetheart. And if you need _anything_ you call right away, alright?”

She promised in an exasperated tone, said her goodbyes and hung up before he could open his mouth again. He placed the phone back on its cradle with a sulk.

Then he followed the sound of laughter to the living-room and leaned against the doorframe for a moment, content to watch.

Effie was on her stomach on the rug in front of the fireplace where he had left her. She was playing with their daughter who seemed intent to escape by any mean necessary. April was slowly trying to crawl away, half an inch at a time, while Snowball who though that a game crawled at her side at the very same pace, awkwardly shimmying this way and that. It was, admittedly, hilarious to watch. And not very effective.

The more Effie laughed the more offended Snowball looked.

April wasn’t disturbed in the least.

“We’re gonna be running after her soon.” Haymitch commented with an amused smirk, pushing himself off the door to drop on the couch.

“Is it true?” she asked, gently rolling April on her back to press kisses all over her stomach. “Are we going to have to run after you, my darling?” More kisses had April flinging her arms and legs in obvious delight, her face all joy. “Are you going to be the little terror Papa says you will be?” Effie teased, poking the baby in the side, prompting more of those noises that sounded so much like giggles. Too soon for that, according to the books. Haymitch had long decided the books were _bullshit_ because their baby clearly _giggled_. Effie play-bit her hand and Snowball bumped his big head in her shoulder, either to be let in on the game or in fear she would hurt the child. She ruffled his fur. “Yes, you’re a good boy.” 

Haymitch shook his head and clicked his fingers once to get the dog’s attention. It didn’t take much more for Snowball to leave the girls be and jump on him. He was definitely too big for that now but Haymitch suffered to be crushed by the Samoyed, scratching and petting where he liked best.

Yeah…

He probably didn’t deserve to be this happy or to love his life so much.

Effie gave April her plain attention a little while longer until it became clear that their daughter was more interested in being allowed back on the playing mat. Her latest passion was to try to catch the blue fish hanging above her head. It made him smile.

“How’s Katniss?” Effie asked, distracted, as she started gathering the toys that always seemed to get scattered around.

“Good. They’re in Seven.” he told her, quickly summing up the conversation for her.

Effie squeezed the stuffed fish Haymitch had bought April two days earlier to her chest, in deep thought. “Peeta _is_ miserable. And with what happened last week… He needs her…”

“They talked about it, I think.” he shrugged. “She didn’t say but the boy told me she called after it hit the papers. He told her not to change her plans for him.”

“Of course he didn’t.” she scoffed. “How stupidly noble.” She checked that April was fine and then stood up only to wince and sway dangerously left and right. “ _Oh_.” Haymitch pushed the dog off his lap and was halfway up when she waved him back down. “I’m fine. It’s a spell of dizziness.”

She didn’t look fine and he forced her to take a seat next to him on the couch with a frown. “That’s been happening a lot, Effie.”

Since the incident with the Peacekeeper. He had dismissed it at first, had thought it was just a side effect of the nasty flashback, but she was better now and her head still tended to spin from time to time.

“I just stood up too quickly, that’s all.” she reassured him. “I’m not… I’m not exactly at the top of my game, I’m afraid.”

Not sleeping and taking care of a baby on top of it made her tired. He supposed it could explain the bouts of dizziness but there were some other symptoms he was sure she was keeping to herself. He had heard her throw up a few times.

“If you’re sick, you need to tell me.” he chided her. “We need to have it checked out.”

She immediately shook her head. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

And there lied the crux of the problem, he figured.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been dizzy… You’ve been throwing up…” he frowned. “That’s not exactly normal.”

Guilt flashed on her face, probably because she had tried to keep that away from him. “It was only twice and… It was out of anxiety. I worked myself up badly and it resulted in an upset stomach, that’s all. There is no reason to worry, I promise. I’ve just been tired since… I’m fine, Haymitch. I _feel_ fine. Just tired.”

He wasn’t pleased with that assessment and he wasn’t sure he was buying it.

“If it doesn’t go away you’ll talk to Larcher.” he insisted. He didn’t want to push _right then_ because he didn’t think it would have gone out too well but he wasn’t going to let that slide either, not if something was wrong with her.

“Yes.” she surrendered, curling up against his chest, her knees propped on his thigh.

He wrapped his arm around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head. Snowball had lied down next to the playing mat and was watching April with rapt attention. The baby was having the time of her life trying to catch that fish. Everything was perfect and it made his chest ache.

“Can’t bear the thought of losing you.” His voice was gruff and he could feel his cheeks flushing a little. As if it was still a secret.

“You won’t.” she hummed, cupping his cheek to press a kiss against his lips. It wasn’t quite chaste or innocent and he leaned into it, chasing a little after her mouth when she retreated. “I promise if I don’t feel better in a few days I will talk to Larcher but _honestly_ I am fairly sure it is just nerves.”

“Okay.” he breathed out, tightening his grip on her shoulders.

She settled back against his chest, her fingers drawing random distracted patterns on his chest. “Do you know Mrs Leemon?”

He frowned, a bit thrown by the change of topic. He had to think hard about it too. “Four houses down the street, yeah?”

She had been amongst the first to come back to Twelve but he had never really had any occasion to talk to her.

“Yes.” she confirmed. “Well… She saw a couple of the outfits I made for me and April and… She asked me if I was for hire.”

“When?” he asked. “You haven’t been out in a while.”

“She cornered me at the mailbox while you were walking Snowball.” she chuckled. “I thought she was out for gossip at first. She _might_ have been actually but…” She gave a small shrug. “She still looked interested in the outfits so I invited her in to discuss what she would like and… One thing led to another, I showed her my sketches…” She was taking pain to sound calm and detached but he could hear the cautious excitation underneath. “I was a little nervous, you know. She has always been polite but I do not know her that well…”

She had been nervous about the woman possibly laughing at her work. Thanks to Elindra’s wonderful parenting skills.

Haymitch did his best to keep the sudden anger from her. There were times when he managed to forget just how her parents had treated her but there were also moments when he would have gladly bashed their heads against the wall for it.

“She liked them.” he said confidently.

He had never claimed to be an expert in fashion and he had made his opinion on her eccentric outfits clear over the years but she had toned that down a lot since coming to live in Twelve. She always looked classy, too much for the District, but rarely _outlandish_. And he might not be paying attention half the time but he had seen her sketch or sew enough times to know half her wardrobe was composed of things she had made by herself – and most of April’s clothes were too.

Effie was Effie. Heads always turned in her wake – and not only because she had been an escort – and she was so naturally charismatic and beautiful that some women tried to emulate her just to catch the same kind of attention. She was still launching trends. _Of course,_ people would be interested in her sketches. She was the only one who doubted that.

“She _did_.” she beamed, not bothering to reign her enthusiasm in anymore. “Well, she wasn’t really interested in the gowns but she liked the summer dresses and a few of the other outfits… And she _loved_ the baby outfits. She has a little girl, you know? So she asked if I would take an order for a few things both for her and the child and… And I said yes.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” he offered, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

“I wasn’t quite sure what sort of fees I should set but… We figured something out that worked for both of us.” she explained, sitting up straight. Her eyes were bright and sparkling. She looked happy, excited… It made her look ten years younger and he was reminded of the bubbly exuberant girl she used to be when he had met her. She kept on talking, waving her hands in the air in her enthusiasm. “A few people asked where I bought my clothes and I was always flattered that they would think I _bought_ them but I didn’t look any further than that. Eileen suggested that I should open a shop a few times, you know…”

He tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, amused by her antics. “That’s something you want to do? Open a shop?”

He didn’t really know how he felt about that. It would mean that she would be busy. He had no experience with opening or even tending to a business but it seemed time consuming. And they just had a baby… He wasn’t sure he wanted to share her that much.

But she looked so happy and excited…

He wanted her to be happy in Twelve. He had always known she wasn’t good at being idle and that she had an independent streak. Effie Trinket needed challenges. She needed goals. She needed something that was completely _hers_ in which she could not only excel but be admired for.

And he wasn’t about to take that away from her if it could make her life easier.

He could take care of April while she worked, he figured. He had no need or inclination to get a job that was more complicated than raising geese. He would have all the time in the world for their daughter.

“Perhaps.” she admitted, looking a little sheepish. “But the capital…”

“You don’t need to worry about money.” he cut her off. They had enough money. If she wanted a shop, he would give it to her. He owed her that and so much more. For failing her during the war. For the years of anguish before that.

“Yes, I do.” she frowned, her enthusiasm deflating a little. “We have a child to think about. If I open a shop and it doesn’t work out…”

“It will.” he shrugged.

“You are sweet but you cannot know that.” she countered.

“Yeah, I do. ‘Cause you’ve got _talent_.” he growled. “And I’ve yet to see you fail at _anything_.”

“I don’t want to risk our savings on a whim.” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. “Then, talk to your father. He bought half the place as it is. What’s one more building?”

She immediately shook her head. “Absolutely _not_. If I am to do this, it will be _my_ project. I do not want my father – or my _mother_ for that matter – _meddling_.”

He was lost. “You don’t want our money… You don’t want your father’s… How are you gonna do this, then?” He made a face. “Not a loan. I trust those bankers just as far as I can throw them.”

Her lips twitched in amusement, probably because she thought he was being unnecessarily paranoid. “With my own.”

“You don’t have any money of your own.” he replied before he could think twice about it.

The comment hurt her, he saw it plainly.

Money wasn’t a topic they discussed often, mainly because it was better left unaddressed. Effie had always been proud of her independence, being forced to financially lie on him for almost two years had always been a sore point for her. Haymitch had never minded. Mainly because, even though he would never had been stupid enough to voice it in her immediate vicinity, he found it natural. He was the man, it was his job to provide for his family. It was how it had always been in Twelve before the war – even though most women ended up finding a job to make ends meet. She would have found it very old-fashioned, of course, and probably insulting so he kept his mouth shut but he had considered it his duty to make sure she had everything she needed well before they had tied the knot.

Nevertheless, she resented it. Her pride had suffered when she had been forced to tell him about the debts she had left behind, when she had asked if he could help her out. He hadn’t hesitated a single second, had never even thought twice about it. It had been implied – and often _stated_ in the beginning – that she would pay him back for the scores he had settled on her behalf. He had never wanted to hear about it. He still didn’t. Money was just money. _She_ was so much more important.

“Precisely.” she said, forcing herself to sound just as cheerful as before. “I thought I could establish myself as a dressmaker first. It would allow me to build up a customer base, to control the amount of work I would take and to earn some money. Besides, I can do that from home so I won’t feel like I am abandoning April. It would be slow going but… It would test the water… If there is enough demand in a year or so then I will think about opening a real business. What do you think?”

It was very thought through.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asked.

She looked a little sheepish and dropped her eyes to her hands before meeting his gaze. “A while, to be honest.”

He shrugged, studying her with some amusement. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

She beamed.

He wasn’t exactly expecting to get his lap full of her but he played along willingly, responding to her kisses, barely remembering to keep his hands from roaming all over her because April was in the same room.

“You really thought I wouldn’t support you?” he mumbled between two kisses, a bit taken aback by her reaction.

“You aren’t my best fan when it comes to fashion.” she argued.

He drew back, coiling a hand around her nape. “I want you to be _happy_. Whatever form that takes. You know that, yeah?”

Her blue eyes twinkled when she leaned in to place a teasing ghost of a kiss on his lips. “It takes the form of you letting me turn the study into a proper workshop.”

“Thought we were making it a guest room?” he snorted but then shrugged. “You can have the whole house for all I care.”

“There is always the big cupboard upstairs…” she frowned after a minute. “How big is it anyway? Given the house’s proportions, it _must_ be quite large… Now that I think about it… This cupboard doesn’t make much sense… Why… It must _at least_ be as big as the study, right? And… Wait a minute… Isn’t there a _window_? I am sure there is a window on that side of the house…”

“Ah, yeah… That cupboard…” He cleared his throat.

How did he even begin to _explain_ that cupboard…

It was full to the brim with all the boxes full of Capitol _bullshit_ that he hadn’t managed to cram in the attic plus most of the horrible sculptures the house had come with – some of which had been as tall as he was – as well as a few pieces of furniture he _really_ hadn’t liked and some  awful paintings… Step by step it had become a room he never opened because it was simply full of junk – _real_ junk, not the burned mementoes he had religiously kept in the attic. Every time he had broken something and had cared enough to get rid of it that was where he had tossed it.

When she had come to work for him Hazelle had glanced once in there and had never opened that door again. Effie had never really checked it out, he figured. She had asked once, a little after she had moved in, he had dismissed it as a storing area and she had simply run along with the cupboard assumption.

To be _really_ honest, he didn’t even notice the closed door anymore. It was part of the wall at this point, like a framed painting or the vase full of flowers Effie had insisted would brighten the hallway.

“See… I never specifically _said_ it was a cupboard…” he winced.

She didn’t look impressed.

He could see the wheels turning in her head as she mentally compared the layout of their house to the children’s and put her interest in architecture to good use. She must have reached the logical conclusion because she licked her lips and her arms became a little heavier around his neck. She hadn’t moved off his lap though so it couldn’t be _that_ bad.

“Haymitch, _please_ , tell me there isn’t another guest room in this house I knew nothing about.” she requested.

His wince deepened and he tightened his hold on her wait. “ _Technically_ , it’s not a guest room either.”

It was a room full of junk that was impossible to enter because he had done an _excellent_ job at making things fit where it shouldn’t have. The smallest room upstairs too. Really, it wasn’t _that_ far off from a cupboard.

It would take a hammer and a lot of patience to get inside.

“Haymitch.” she growled. She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pursed.

“It doesn’t even have a bathroom!” he exclaimed in his defense.

And it was probably the only reason there _was_ a bathroom unattached to either bedroom at all on the first floor. They never used that one anyway. It was what Effie called “the guests’ bathroom” because apparently it wasn’t done to make their friends and family cross their bedroom to use the toilets or to wash their hands.

“I cannot believe you.” she sighed, shaking her head. “And I cannot _believe_ I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

He dropped his head against the back on the couch, very much pouting. “You’re gonna make me clear it, yeah?”

She didn’t even bat an eyelash. “What do you think?”

He thought he was sentenced to moving a lot of heavy things around and that she was going to have a field day cleaning and decorating. He also thought they wouldn’t have an excuse not to host her parents when they would come to Twelve now – and _that_ chagrined him most of all. And lastly he though three years earlier he would have told her to do it herself if she wanted it done when _now_ he would obey because it would make her happy and save him an argument.

He was whipped.

Oh, _so_ whipped.

He wondered how someone could be _that_ happy being so whipped.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How ridiculous are they? XD Ridiculous but cute, right? Hey! I say half an inch should still count as crawling! Wanna bet the first time she makes a vague sound that somehow ressemble a word, they will claim she talks? She's so precious to them... What do you think of their ridiculous behavior? And what about Effie's idea for opening a shop? And what is uuuup with Effie? Anxiety? Stress? Something else? Is Haymitch right to be worried? Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> A word of update: next week is Christmas and the one after that is New Year's Eve so there won't be a chapter for those two week-ends... We're having a small tiny hiatus with that small cliffhanger, so you can all wonder what I have in store for them next ;) I hope to see you all on the 7th of January!


	48. 16 Weeks

The cat ragdoll that accidentally hit her in the face made her open her eyes with a groan. She didn’t quite glare at her daughter but it was a close thing. April was very busy trying to roll from her back to her side, in a better mood, it seemed, than the previous night.

It was probably for the best, Effie thought, discarding her daughter’s favorite toy by tossing it toward the pillow. She couldn’t really afford to drift off, not when Haymitch had wandered downstairs and had left her in charge of the baby. She rolled on her side to watch April, noting the barrier of cushions and pillows lining the edge of their bed so the baby wouldn’t fall.

“How is your little tummy now, sweetie?” she hummed, gently rubbing the cartoonish giraffe on April’s stomach.

It had been a short night. A baby with an upset stomach was no fun and, at long last, Haymitch had brought her back to their bed in the early morning, arguing that neither of them were sleeping anyway so it wasn’t like their daughter would be in any danger of getting crushed in their sleep. April had been very upset and had cried half the night until eventually giving in to slumber around six. Haymitch had been unable to shake off the headache and Effie hadn’t felt so good herself so there had been no rest to be had.

April let out a sharp noise and, despite how tired Effie felt, she smiled and reached for her daughter. She carefully sat her up – something their daughter _loved_ – making sure to hold her up so she wouldn’t fall. She briefly let go from time to time, to get her used to sitting on her own. The baby let out more noises and eventually tried to grab the ragdoll that was out of her reach.

With a chuckle, Effie placed April on her chest and handed her the toy. Her daughter wasn’t interested in a cuddling session, though. She wanted to suck on the ragdoll. One of her favorite activities.

Still, April was calm, lying on her stomach and Effie felt herself drift off again, lulled to sleep by the soft hair she was gently petting.

At least until a loud bang and an even louder curse echoed throughout the house.

“Haymitch?” she called, immediately sitting up, cradling April close to her chest. She couldn’t control the instinctive hammering of her heart or the _flight_ response in her brain. She stretched her neck to avoid the grabby little hands that wanted to take hold of her hair.

“ _Sorry! All fine!_ ” Haymitch shouted from downstairs. “ _Just dropped a pan_!”

She allowed herself to breathe and placed her daughter back down on the bed with shaky fingers. She made sure April was in the middle of the bed and there were pillow barriers on every side before making a quick trip to the bathroom.

“Good girl.” she praised when she came back to find the baby right where she had left her – not that April could have gone far by herself. She contemplated getting dressed while Haymitch made breakfast and then give up on the thought because April was getting fussy. It was a little past her usual feeding time and their daughter must be famished. She was starving herself anyway.

“You are getting heavy.” she sighed when she scooped April up, nuzzling her baby cheek with her nose, breathing in her smell. The baby laughed in apparent delight, tangling her fingers in her loose curls. That wasn’t a habit Effie was fond off. Her tugs were brutal and painful and she wasn’t the only one suffering from it – Snowball had learned not let himself be grabbed and Haymitch always held her at arms length when she attempted to do the same to him. “You’re such a big girl now… But you will _always_ be my baby, won’t you?” She took the chirping for an approval. “I love you so much… I will never get tired of telling you that.”

She rolled her eyes when she stepped in the corridor and glimpsed the open door of the _not-_ cupboard. Getting rid of all the dirty junk in there was taking absolutely too long and she hadn’t been able to step in yet but she had made some calculations and the proportions seemed good enough that she could settle her workshop in there.

It annoyed her to have been fooled by the _storage space_ excuse for so long.

_Only Haymitch_.

She was careful carrying April down the stairs as always but she gagged halfway through and froze on the step, wrinkling her nose at the _awful_ smell. The dizziness and the nausea hadn’t really disappeared in the last couple of weeks but she had done a good job of hiding them from an overprotective Haymitch… They were minor inconveniences she imputed to her lack of sleep and the panic attacks she still had from time to time. _This,_ though, was something _entirely_ different.

The smell was… _repulsive_.

“Haymitch, what in Panem are you _doing_?” she snapped as she hurried to the kitchen, pressing her nose to April’s shoulder while keeping her hand not too far from her baby’s face to spare her most of the awfulness.

Haymitch frowned at her over his shoulder, clearly confused. He was standing in front of the stove, in nothing but sweatpants, cooking breakfast. The backdoor and the window over the sink were both open and she could hear the dog chasing after the geese in the backyard, fresh air was coming in but it wasn’t enough to chase that smell away.

“You’re okay, sweetheart?” he worried. “You look a bit green…”

She hurriedly placed April in the baby seat that had been abandoned on the table and pressed her hand to her mouth, feeling her stomach churn. He put the spatula down and turned toward her, a hand outstretched to prevent an eventual fall.

“What are you _doing_?” she insisted, glancing past him and to the pan in which eggs were sizzling. “Can’t you tell they’re _off_?”

“Off.” he repeated. “They’re not…”

To her horror, she couldn’t control herself anymore. She barely had time to reach for the trash bin before she was throwing up the meager content of her stomach.

She _hated_ being sick.

Her legs wouldn’t hold her up but Haymitch’s hands gently helped her down to the kitchen’s floor and then rubbed her back while she threw up some more. She was mostly dry-heaving and it was an _awful_ sensation.

And with every breath she took, all she could smell was the stench of the rotten eggs.

“Get rid of them.” she hissed, trying to control the spasms of her stomach.

There were some movements behind her. She thought he had tossed the pan and its content outside because Snowball joyfully barked and the geese honked. Not that she really cared. April was crying, either picking up on the tension or upset because nobody had fed her yet… Effie was trying really hard not to be sick again.

She felt ridiculous sitting there, clutching the trash bin… And she hated that Haymitch had seen her throw up. It was as unglamorous as it got and she was determined to keep the flame alive by any mean necessary. Throwing up _wasn’t_ sexy. At all.

She sniffed pitifully when he crouched down behind her, horrified to realize she was about to start crying as well. Tears burned her eyes and no matter how firmly she told herself to get a grip, they rolled down her cheeks in fat drops.

“It’s okay, sweetheart…” he said softly. One hand rubbed her back, the other settled on her shoulder. “You think you’re good now?”

She wordlessly nodded, letting him tear the bin from her deadly grip. She remained there while he took care of it, mortified beyond words when she heard the garden hose. She should have at least cleaned after herself.

But on the other hand…

“Why were you cooking rotten eggs?” she accused when he came back, letting him pull her to her feet. She also let him guide her to a chair because her legs weren’t that strong yet.

He took a long time to answer. He seemed a bit stunned himself and she wondered if they had all come down with something. Maybe April didn’t have colic at all like they had thought. Maybe it was some bug going around or…

She watched him as he prepared a bottle for their daughter in complete silence. It was only once he sat down next to her at the table and started feeding April, leaving the baby in the baby seat, that he spoke again as if ten minutes hadn’t passed since Effie’s last question.

“Yeah… About that…” His voice trailed off. She couldn’t quite tell what was going on with him. He looked as if someone had hit him very hard on the head. “Thing is… They _weren’t_ off.”

“They must have been.” she scoffed, pushing herself to her feet. “Did you _smell_ them? I don’t know how you could bear being in that room, it was…” She made a face as she angrily poured herself some coffee. Faint traces of the stench were lingering in the air and she felt a little better next to the open window. “We have a _baby_ now, Haymitch. You have to be more careful. I am _sure_ she could have caught food poisoning from that smell alone.”

His gaze tracked her every move. “You might want to pass on that cup of coffee, sweetheart.”

The mug froze halfway to her lips and she frowned with suspicion. “Why?”

Wasn’t there anything edible left in the house?

“Cause the eggs weren’t off?” he replied and it almost sounded like a question.

She shook her head. “You make no sense.” April was done with her bottle and he placed it down on the table, automatically making sure their daughter was fine before standing up to join her near the counter. He plucked the mug from her fingers and her frown deepened. “What is going on with you?”

She was tempted to fight him for her morning coffee – because after the night she had had, she _needed_ her morning coffee – but she didn’t want to stay too close to him. She suspected her breath wasn’t up to par after the throwing up incident.

“ _The eggs weren’t off_ , Effie.” he insisted as if it was a proper answer. Her stare was blank and he grew frustrated. He took a long gulp of _her_ coffee – and, _really,_ if he was trying to aggravate her he was off to a good start that day – and then rubbed his face with his free hand. “You’ve been dizzy. And nauseous. You’re _really_ gonna make me spell it, Princess? Cause the eggs _weren’t_ off.”

It took a few seconds for the implication to set in.

Her first reaction was to scoff because it was _absolutely_ ridiculous.

Her second one was to place a hand on her stomach.

Her third one was to lose complete control of her limbs.

He caught her and helped her back to a chair before she could properly faint. She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have preferred that option rather than being forced to face what he was saying.

“It can’t be.” she muttered, looking up at him, forgetting all about bad breath and teeth that needed to be brushed. “We _just_ had one.”

“Four months ago.” he countered flatly, dropping on the nearest chair. He ran a panicked hand through his hair. “Have you… I mean… You still don’t have your…”

“If my period had come back, you would know by now, don’t you think?” she hissed, angry at him for no real good reason. Aside from the fact he was the one making _preposterous_ statements. Like the fact that she might be _pregnant_. She shook her head at him, eyes wide. “I _can’t_ be. It’s… It’s not _that_. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe it’s just a bug or…”

She didn’t even finish that sentence.

She had gained some weight lately but she had put that on giving up her daily jogs. She still hadn’t wandered too far from the house since the incident with the former Peacekeeper. The furthest she had gone was the Village’s gates. She had been doing some exercising in front of the TV but it wasn’t the same and thus she had thought…

And she _had_ been eating a lot of chocolate, _far_ too much chocolate. But it was so hot outside… Surely it wasn’t that incredible to be craving chocolate ice-cream at odd times of day? And she had _always_ had a weakness for Peeta’s cupcake. So what if she was developing a sweet tooth?

And… Yes, she had been dizzy and nauseous, particularly in the mornings, but she had good explanations for that too, didn’t she? Lack of sleep and anxiety would do that to a person.

“Maybe.” he nodded, too ready to cling to that hope. “’Cause we’ve been careful, yeah?”

“Not all the time.” she reminded him in all fairness. She pressed her hands against her face. She had been meaning to talk to Larcher about contraceptive measures a little more reliable than plain condoms. She and Haymitch hadn’t been using condoms in ten years, it wasn’t something that came naturally and they were often too passionate to _think_ properly. For the most part, they had been good at remembering but… There _had_ been lapses. “This is _so_ not happening… I’m _too_ old for pregnancy scare, Haymitch.”

Perhaps this was all a bad dream, she told herself. She would wake up in their bed, exhausted by a night of looking after their daughter, and she would laugh it all off as a silly dream.

“How bad would it be if you were…” he hesitated after a long moment of silence. He was taking obvious pain to sound detached. She looked up at him, incredulous. He lifted both hands in a defensive gesture. “Honest question. Didn’t turn out so bad the last time.”

His grey eyes fell on April and he smiled. And, just like that, she could see the tension leaving him. The fear. The panic. The apprehension.

One look at April was all it took.

“How bad?” She almost laughed but it was more shock than real amusement. “One accidental pregnancy is bad enough but _two_? How are we going to _explain_ this, Haymitch? Two accidental pregnancies. _Two_. People will think we are irresponsible.” She rolled her eyes. “And do you know what? They will be _right_. If it was anyone else I would be lecturing them right about now!”

“So you’re just worried about what everyone else is gonna say.” he commented with obvious relief. “It’s not about… We never talked about… Do you want another one?”

“Another one?” she repeated, feeling as if she had stepped into some weird alternate dimension. Haymitch Abernathy was asking her if she wanted a second child. _Haymitch Abernathy_. She knew April had changed him. She hadn’t been aware just _how_ _much_. “April is four months old.”

He shrugged, tapping their daughter’s tiny hand with his finger until she made an attempt at grabbing it. “Being close in age isn’t a bad thing… What do you say, sweetheart? Do you want a baby sister? Or a baby brother?”

He sounded almost excited now.

“Haymitch…” she whispered.

She, on the other hand, sounded very afraid.

His attention immediately shifted from the baby to her. He clasped the hand she had placed on the table and squeezed her fingers.

“Look…” he said nervously. “I ain’t saying that’s what we were planning for but… Might not be a bad thing, yeah? Might be _good_. April… She’s the best thing that ever happened to me…”

“To _us_.” she corrected quietly.

He smiled at her. A real genuine happy smile. “To _us_. So… I ain’t saying I’m not freaking out too ‘cause two babies _might_ be a little bit more than we can chew but… If you’re really…”

“ _Pregnant_.” she supplied when he failed to say the word.

“Yeah.” he chuckled. “If you’re pregnant… I say we’ve got room for another kid, sweetheart.”

“If I _am_ really pregnant we are stopping at two.” she warned. “Two is a good number.”

And she honestly didn’t want any more than that. She thought about all those District women with a gaggle of children with a shudder. She didn’t want to have so many children that she would be too busy trying to take care of everyone and the household to actually _enjoy_ being their mother. She didn’t want to be like them.

She wasn’t sure she could deal with _two_ as it was. Most days, April was all she could manage.

“Yeah.” he agreed. “Two’s a nice number.”

She rubbed her eyes. “That would make four actually.”

“Peeta and Katniss are grown up. They can handle it.” he smirked, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a long kiss on it.

“We are _not_ telling them.” she declared immediately. “We are doing it by _my_ rules, this time. We do not tell _anyone_ until we know for sure and even then…” Her old fears were poking their ugly heads. April might have been a fluke. Nothing said this pregnancy would go as well as the previous one. “We will wait a little. Three months, at least.”

Three months were a reasonable limit. Most miscarriages happened in the first trimester. All her previous ones had anyway.

“We need to find out.” he decided, suddenly bolting to his feet. “Let’s go to the clinic.”

“Without an appointment?” she snorted. “There is no emergency and I would rather not attract attention.”

He frowned. “ _There’s_ an emergency. We need to _know_.”

“Haymitch, if we rush to the clinic first thing in the morning, people are going to ask questions.” she sighed. “You could get a pregnancy test from the store but they aren’t one hundred percent reliable and it would be all over town by noon. The press has been after us for months… I do not want the next headlines to announce my pregnancy to Panem when we don’t even _know_ I am pregnant for sure.”

She had a valid point and he couldn’t dispute it. Besides how safe would it be if the news were to leak _now_? If one baby had been enough to tempt a man into attacking her – and she forced herself not to think about Clay, she forced herself to look at her hands and _focus_ – what would a second pregnancy trigger? 

He started pacing, clearly agitated.

April started crying and Effie picked her up without a second thought, sitting her on her knees. The baby had been growing upset when they left her line of sight lately or when they didn’t answer her sharp noises, she liked them to talk to her. With Haymitch walking right in front of her, she was happy.

His eyes were resting on their daughter, thoughtful. “Let’s take April for a consult. She’s been sick all night…”

“She had an upset stomach… It happened before…” she frowned. “She is fine now, she doesn’t need…”

“Yeah, well… They don’t need to know _that_ , right?” he insisted. “Once we’re alone with Larcher, you ask for a blood test.”

He looked very proud of himself for that ridiculous plan.

“I will call and make an appointment.” she dismissed. “They can probably fit me in tomorrow.”

If it was just a scare, she would need to see about contraception anyway. She had been on the pill before but perhaps an implant would be easier to manage with the baby taking up all her time. Except if this had put ideas in Haymitch’s head and he wanted… But she dismissed that thought. Accidental pregnancies were one thing, purposefully trying to create another life…

She wasn’t sure how she felt about having another baby so soon. April was _so little_ still and it felt like she had _just_ got her body back… However if they _really_ wanted to have another one, they would need to start trying soon because she wasn’t getting any younger and…

What was she even _thinking_ about? 

“Tomorrow!” he exclaimed before shaking his head. “Tomorrow’s too long.”

“You are being unreasonable.” she sighed. “Tomorrow is perfectly fine.”

“You don’t wanna know or what?” he snapped, getting angry. “ _Tomorrow_. You expect me to _wait_ until _tomorrow_?”

She might have been a little cruel to make him wait instead of simply calling Larcher and requesting a favor but he had accepted the whole thing _too calmly_ when _she_ was inclined to freaking out. It was petty but it would be punishment for that.

Besides, she could live in denial a little while longer.

_Two babies_. How would they handle that? She silently kissed her workshop goodbye because if it _was_ true… The new baby would need a room. Or more likely they would have to move April out of the nursery and in a room of her own. She would need to convert the study after all. She had been toying with the idea of making it a guest room but now…

How was it the house felt so small when it had been so big when it had just been the two of them?

“I expect you to make me breakfast.” she countered, more unsettled than she wanted to let on. She batted her eyelashes, aiming for levity because she didn’t want him to catch up on that. “Because I am famished and you wouldn’t want your pregnant wife to starve now, would you?”

He glared at her, clearly sulking. “We don’t know you’re pregnant. You don’t get the pregnant treatment until we know for sure. See how it works?”

“Very well.” She let out a deep sad theatrical sigh. “Then, nothing forbids me from drinking my coffee…”

He snatched the mug away before her fingertips could so much as _brush_ the faience.

Another part of being pregnant she hadn’t missed: Haymitch making note of everything she swallowed to make sure she either got enough food or that nothing she ate would harm the baby.

“ _Fine_.” he grumbled. “But you’re getting toasts and orange juice. I _ain’t_ cooking for you. You’re a _pain_ in my _ass_.”

“Language.” she chided before sitting April on the edge of the table, making sure to support her. Their daughter was drooling all over her little fist, Effie quickly wiped it off with a nearby dishcloth and popped the brand new red pacifier in her mouth instead. “Isn’t your papa a funny man, April? Look at him… He’s pretending to be mad at us…”

“Not at _both_ of you. Just at _you_.” he scowled, putting bread in the toaster and fishing butter from the fridge. He tossed it on the table and lifted the baby up, his face immediately lightening. He dropped a series of kisses on April’s stomach, making her laugh out loud. Effie would never get tired of that sound. “How can I be mad at this pretty shrimp?”

The picture they made relaxed her a little.

Most of her terror when she had been pregnant with April had come from the uncertainty that they could pull this off. Be parents. Be _normal_ people.

So far… They hadn’t been too awful at it.

Well… If they excepted the thing with the Peacekeeper and her mad dash through the woods. But that was _her_.

Haymitch was always so good with their daughter… He would have denied it to his dying breath but he was a natural with children. And he looked so happy when he was with their baby… She could watch him take care of April _forever_. There was just something about him in those moments… A sort of _peace_ she had never known he would ever be able to find. It gave her hopes she could find it too eventually.

It wasn’t that April was a miracle cure to all his wounds but… She helped soothe scar tissues that had already been healing.   

“What are you going to call the next one? Jellyfish?” she mocked, her voice softening with fondness.

His grey eyes were pleading when he met her gaze. “Let’s go to the clinic…”

“No.” she denied.  

He glared. “ _Effie_.”

“ _Haymitch_.” she retorted. He rolled his eyes and propped April on his left arm to catch the bread the toaster had just spat out. He looked deeply unhappy when he placed the plate in front of her and turned to grab glasses from the cupboard. She felt a little bad. “It isn’t out of spite.” she whispered, staring at her toasts. “The clinic… I haven’t been that far since… I just need some time.”

Going back into town wasn’t something that she was overjoyed about, truth be told.

He froze and then softened a little, settling back at the table next to her and sipping from the mug of coffee. April was bored and he quickly passed her the rattle before she started crying. Effie lost count of the number of times the toy fell down during breakfast. Every time one of them had to pick it up and hand it back but they didn’t really mind.

“You’re scared?” he asked, once they couldn’t pretend to be eating anymore. They had been sitting in silence for the past ten minutes, watching their daughter delight in making a lot of annoying loud noises with the rattle.

“A little.” she admitted. “Not as much as before.” Not having April seemed such an absurd idea now… She couldn’t even phantom how she had thought she would have been able to give her up even if it had been in the child’s best interest. She was a selfish person at the core. And she loved her baby so much… No, she would never have been able to part from her. It made the prospect of being pregnant again less frightening on that front. She knew she could be a mother now. Perhaps not the classical kind but she did her best and with Haymitch there to help, it was manageable. “What about you?”

He took his time to answer, combing the blond curls on their daughter’s head with his fingers. “I’m sober and I’m mostly okay. Peace is holding… It’s not as scary as it was before.” His lips stretched into something that looked more like a smile than one of his trademark smirks. “Can’t imagine my life without April, you know. If we’re gonna have another one…” He shrugged. “If there’s a new baby, there’s a new baby. I can live with that.”

His cheeks were flushed and he looked a little uncomfortable but he seemed determined to get his point across. Even if it implied _feelings_.

She reached for his hand and placed her other one on April’s little foot.

_Her family_.

She supposed they could find room for one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What do you think? Is she? Isn't she? Denial is strong in this one. You can bet Haymitch had a nice private freakout while he was cleaning the trash bin outside ;) Let me know your thoughts!


	49. 16 Weeks (2)

“Sure.” Haymitch answered to April’s chirping, used by now to having conversations that didn’t make much sense. “We’re gonna go home soon, don’t worry your pretty little head, sweetheart.”

Haymitch was sitting with April propped on his lap, facing him, one of his hands at her back to support her and the other one waving the blue stuffed fish in front of her, pretending to make him swim to amuse her. His daughter’s interest in the toy was limited though and, truth be told, so was his.

The clinic’s waiting area wasn’t packed but it wasn’t empty either, despite the steady drizzle outside, and the smell of wet clothes and antiseptic was making him a bit nauseous. It was no wonder that Effie hadn’t been able to stand it for more than a couple of minutes. His eyes trailed on the restroom’s door, waiting for her to come back. She had been in there a while already.

“Mama’s gonna be back soon.” he promised April in a low voice that carried anyway because everyone was mostly silent aside for the occasional cough or awkward shifting. The plastic chairs really weren’t that comfortable.

Two of the women who were sitting there kept tossing him looks he had become familiar with since April was born. According to Effie, a man with a baby was attractive. He failed to see what was attractive about the baby puke stain on his shoulder but he supposed it was one of those mysterious woman things he would never really get – like how Effie always freaked out when he borrowed her toothbrush.

He adjusted April’s blue sweater, making sure she was warm enough. The weather wasn’t great that day and, given a choice, they would have kept her inside but the prospect of waiting yet another day to find out if Effie… He tried hard to hide his nervousness but the slight tremor in his fingers betrayed him.

The last twenty-four hours had been pure _torture_.

He hated being kept in the dark. He hated not knowing what was in store. He hated that he didn’t know _for sure_.

He also hated the fact that if Effie wasn’t pregnant, that meant something else could be seriously wrong with her. It was a possibility that terrified him a lot more than the perspective of another child.

Effie had kept tossing him incredulous looks because he was remaining calm about the idea of a second pregnancy. The truth was that he had had a very private freaking out session in the backyard while he was getting rid of the eggs, another one when he had cleaned the trash bin and several more since then. He wasn’t sure it was the best idea. He wasn’t sure they could deal. But he was also very sure that if she _was_ pregnant, there would be no discussion about keeping it or not.

_If_ she was pregnant.

If she wasn’t _ill_.

He couldn’t even begin to phantom a  life without her. If she was ill… If she…

April’s sharp cry of reproach brought his attention back to his daughter. “Sorry, sweetheart. What were you saying?”

He went back to waving that stuffed fish, his throat closed and his heart regularly missing a beat. It seemed like _hours_ before Effie walked out of the ladies and came back to sit next to him. She was a bit pale and she didn’t look that good. More than one curious pair of eyes tracked her progress.

“You’re okay?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Of course.” she replied cheerfully. It was mostly fake but her smile was genuine enough that he relaxed a little. “What have you two been up to?”

“We’re watching the fish swim.” he informed her very seriously.

“Ah, my favorite activity.” she grinned, resting her head on his shoulder.

So they all watched the stuffed fish wave in the air in front of April’s delighted face, engaging her in conversation every time she let out some noises.

After ten more minutes, Haymitch’s arms were starting to get tired and he was relieved to hear Effie’s name being called. He bolted out of his chair, turning back to Effie to ask if she wanted to take the baby but she had already passed the diaper bag over her shoulder so he dropped the idea. He wasn’t sure April wasn’t heavier at this point.

“Is it for the little miss?” the nurse asked with a bright smile.

“Yeah.” Haymitch answered firmly – and loudly enough to be heard by everyone around. Effie had had a point when she had told him she didn’t want any hint of this to hit the press. The longer they could keep whatever was going on contained, the better.

“Follow me.” the woman instructed, even if it wasn’t really that necessary. They had been to the clinic often enough in the last year to know their way around.

The examination room had gained a new poster about breast screening and Haymitch hastily looked away. His mind had been working in overdrive since the previous day, trying to find out alternative explanations to Effie’s symptoms and… She had been smocking for _so many years_ and if one of her organs failed before his liver, he would never forgive her. Not that it was _that_. Not that…

He instinctively tightened his hold on April and pressed a kiss on top of their daughter’s head. Effie would be fine. She _had_ to be. And if she wasn’t, they would get her the best treatments. He would drag her back to the Capitol, no matter his own feelings on the issue, because it was where the best doctors were. He would get her the expensive procedures that were so disputed for their unfairness. He didn’t care if he had to bankrupt himself and her father in the process. He would make sure April didn’t grow up without a mother.

“Haymitch, you should sit down.” She snatched April from his arms without him registering but he was glad for the stool she guided him to. She frowned down at him, studying him with worry. “Are you alright? You are _awfully_ pale…”

“I’m good.” he muttered.

It was an outright lie and she probably would have called him out on it if Larcher hadn’t come in at that moment. The friendly smile froze on the doctor’s lips when he spotted them. He was next to Haymitch in a second, flashing one of those annoying pocket lamps into his eyes.

“Are you having troubles breathing?” Larcher asked.

“I’m _fine_.” Haymitch grumbled. “Just…” He waved a hand next to his head. “It’s fine. Just got dizzy, that’s all.”

The doctor glanced at Effie and then frowned. “How long has it been going on? Do you have any chest pain? Stomach ache maybe? We need to keep an eye on that liver of yours, Haymitch. I warned you when you stopped drinking that…”

“Yeah, yeah.” he dismissed in a hurry, not really wanting Effie to hear about how he was at certain risk of developing cirrhosis. “It’s not that. I’m good.” And given that neither adult seemed convinced, he breathed out an irritated sigh. “It’s Effie who’s sick. Please, just… Find out what’s wrong with her, yeah?”

Effie’s face was all astonishment. She cupped the back of their daughter’s head almost defensively. “I thought we had a good idea of what was wrong with me.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s _something_ _else_?” he panicked. “What if…”

“Alright.” Larcher cut in, turning to Effie. “I’m guessing you’re not here for April’s check-up, then.”

Effie’s blue eyes stared at him a second and then she reluctantly handed the baby over to Haymitch, only letting go once she was sure he wouldn’t drop her. Then, and only then, did she turned toward the doctor. “I might be pregnant.”

“Oh!” the man exclaimed with an understanding smile and a twinkle in the eyes. “I will hold on the congratulations until we confirm it then, shall I? Can you describe your symptoms for me?”

Haymitch listened to her list, keeping his own gaze on his daughter while Larcher invited her to sit on the table and checked her blood pressure. The doctor nodded with a focused frown on his face all the time Effie spoke. Once she was done, he asked her to lie down and palpated her stomach for long enough that Haymitch grew wary again.

“Is she okay?” he almost pleaded. “’Cause it started weeks ago but she wouldn’t come in and…” He shook his head, feeling angry with his past self for caving to her wishes. “Should have gotten her here sooner.”

“I’ve learned it takes a lot to drag Effie to the clinic, don’t blame yourself.” Larcher joked but, when he saw how worried Haymitch really was, the doctor grew serious again. “Here is what we are going to do so we are one hundred percent sure of the diagnosis: I will have a nurse draw some blood and then we will settle Effie in a private room. It should take a couple of hours for the results to come back. If the test confirms you’re pregnant, we will make a more thorough check to make sure everything is going alright. If you’re not pregnant, we’ll do some more exams.”

Effie wrinkled her nose. “We could come back in two hours. There is no need for…”

“Your blood pressure is a bit too high for my taste.” Larcher cut her off. “This is obviously a stressful situation for you but… It really would be easier to have you on hand.”

“We’re hoping to keep this discreet.” Haymitch ventured, after clearing his throat.

Larcher nodded his understanding. “Nobody who work here will say anything, it’s in the clinic’s policy.”

And no medical information had _ever_ leaked from the hospital before so Haymitch was inclined to trust him on that point. “Then we’re staying.”

“ _Haymitch_.” Effie hissed in protest, wrapping her arms around her midsection in obvious discomfort. She was doing a little better at the clinic because it had become familiar in the last year but she still was on edge in a medical environment.

“Look…” he sighed. “It’s easier than walking back home in the rain and coming back here. It’s no good for the shrimp to be wet.” He shrugged. “Or we can drop her off at the bakery but the boy’s gonna want to know why we have to go back to the hospital.”

That argument won her over and she surrendered.

Haymitch paced the length of the room, gently rocking April and humming a lullaby, while the nurse Larcher had sent took some of Effie’s blood. His wife kept her eyes shut tight and tried to keep her heart from racing by breathing deep through the nose and out through the mouth. She was making such an obvious effort not to panic that, as soon as the nurse had taken the needle away, Haymitch sat behind her on the examination table, shifting April to his left arm so he could wrap his right one around Effie’s waist. She leaned against his chest like a limp doll.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” he promised. “You’re in Twelve. You’re with me. You’re safe.”

“I know…” she whispered. April stirred, reaching out for her face and Effie gave her a shaky smile. “Mama’s fine, darling.”

That was a lie if there ever was one but Haymitch pressed a kiss on top of his girls’ heads in turn. “Yeah, she _is_.”

He had to stay behind when the nurse ushered her to a room. He couldn’t keep still and thus he walked in circles with April in his arms, wondering why clinics and hospitals always had to have white painted walls. They could use some colors, he mused, it would cheer people up. It was such an Effie thing to think that he ended up hiding his smirk in his daughter’s neck.

“Your Mama has me a trained monkey now.” he snorted.

It was twenty minutes before the same nurse found him and led him to Effie’s room. Effie was clearly not _happy_. They had forced her in a paper gown and into a bed. She had a plastic id tag around her wrist and a scowl on her face. He lifted his eyebrows in question and she glared.

“I told them I would not be here long enough for this to be necessary.” she grumbled, nodding at the plastic thing.

“You’re gonna be here as long as it takes to figure out what’s wrong with you.” he retorted.

She pouted but relaxed against the cushion at her back, holding out her hands for the baby. He carefully handed April over and sank on the visitor chair, plucking the blue fish toy from the bag and playfully tossing it at Effie’s head.

She wasn’t amused.

April, on the other hand, let out a sharp cry as soon as she saw the fish. The following string of sounds their daughter made was pretty clear to him and he watched with a smirk as Effie sighed, picked up the fish and started making it swim in the air in front of the baby.

“I don’t think anything is wrong with me, you know.” she hummed after a few minutes, dropping the fish to brush April’s blond curls back. “And I don’t think we need the blood test results either. I have a feeling.”

He lifted his eyebrows, not bothering to hide his surprise.

“Yesterday you thought you were throwing up because the eggs were off.” he remarked.

She pursed her lips with annoyance. “It was _yesterday_.”

“Sorry, yeah…” he humored her, rolling his eyes. “A lifetime away.”

“Should we throw the fish at Papa’s head, do you think, my darling?” she asked April.

“April would _never_ throw her fish at my head.” he countered, leaning forward to poke the baby in the side. It made her laugh. Effie settled her on her chest and if their daughter wriggled for a little while, it wasn’t long before she fell asleep. He grabbed the fish before Effie could make good on her threats and kept his voice low not to disturb the child. “A feeling, yeah?”

Effie’s blue eyes met his, a soft smile stretching her lips as she gently brushed her nails up and down the sleeping baby’s back. “I cannot really describe it but… I just… I think I _know_.” She gave him a small shrug. “Perhaps it is a mother’s instinct.”

“Hope so.” he sighed.

“Are you hoping for another baby just because you are afraid of me being sick?” she insisted. “Is it why you are so… _ready_ to accept the idea?”

He could see the reluctance in her eyes, how disappointed she would have been if his answer had been _yes_.

It was a bit more complicated than just a yes or a no though.

“Honestly?” He made a face and ran his fingers in his hair. “I’d take another one over you being sick, yeah. But it’s not _just_ that. I meant what I said. I don’t mind the idea of a second baby. It’s just…”

“It’s soon.” she agreed.

“Yeah.” he shrugged.

April was only four months old and when he let himself think about what it would really mean to have two children so close in age, he felt like having a massive panic attack. It would be almost as bad as having twins. There would be babies crawling everywhere, trying to escape, and he was afraid it would be too much to handle. It would have been easier to deal with if April had been two or three.

But it was what it was and if there _was_ a baby, then, yeah, of course Haymitch was ready to accept it.

He would continue to freak out in private but he would accept it.

“You said we could do it.” she reminded him.

“We can.” he countered immediately, without letting himself think about it.

“Good, because I want him.” she declared.

He opened and closed his mouth, a bit puzzled by what was going on there. The previous day, she had been the one having reservations and he had been the one displaying confidence. And now…

“You think it’s a him?” he asked, hoping to distract them from the _could they/couldn’t they_ debate. He had a feeling they would have it several times in the next few months.

“I have a feeling.” she grinned, placing a hand over her stomach, beneath April’s plump leg.

“Seems like you’re full of feelings today, sweetheart.” he mocked without much heat.

The glare she shot him was mild at best. She had a dreamy look on her face and she was unconsciously rubbing her thumb on her stomach. “I will have spent almost two years pregnant, you realize.”

“Like an elephant.” he teased. She seemed to regret the absence of stuffed toys to toss for real now. He reached out and clasped her hand, stilling the movement of her thumb. “Princess…” he said cautiously. “We don’t know yet. Don’t get excited before we know for sure.”

“But I _do_ know.” she replied with a bright open smile he hadn’t seen in years. “Don’t you understand? _I know_.”

He snorted dubiously, wondering if they had slipped her something while she wasn’t looking because she looked a bit high. Or maybe she was just truly happy and it had been so long since he had seen her that carefree that he couldn’t recognize it for what it was. Still, she had been so quick to deny the previous day…

“If you’re not…” he ventured, feeling like he was walking on eggshells. “If that’s what you want… We can try for another one later.”

Assuming she wasn’t too seriously ill but… He really didn’t want to think about that.

She had been unable to stand the eggs’ smell and that was a good enough clue in his book. The fact that if she was pregnant he wouldn’t be able to eat eggs for nine more months hit him and he swallowed back a groan. He _did_ like eggs.

“You are being thick on purpose just to annoy me.” she accused with a pout, shrugging off his hand to place it on their daughter’s back. Her eyes were a bit too bright now and he was startled to realize she was actually fighting tears.

Ah. Mood swings.

He hadn’t missed those.

And he was starting to relax because _feelings_ or not, the signs were too obvious to be missed. She wasn’t ill. Not when she was acting the way she was.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re _really_ pregnant…” he breathed out. They had been talking about it since the previous day but it was at _that_ moment that it really _hit_ him. Another baby. Another tiny little thing like April who would be half-him and half-Effie. Another child to protect or die trying. Another child he would love so deeply it scared him to the bones. Another child who would eventually call him _Papa._ Freaking out had been all well and good but it had never really _sunk in_ what it would really mean. “Oh, _fuck_ …”

Effie was staring at him, apparently torn between being upset and amused. “Are you done?”

Another child with Effie’s blue eyes and blond hair.

His gaze fell on April and his heartbeat calmed down because their daughter was so perfect… How could any child of them _not_ be? They were particularly talented at making children.

“They’re gonna be _safe_ , yeah?” he asked, his voice a touch too high. “No more Games. No more… It’s a nice world to live in now, yeah? _Safe_?”

She sat up, making sure April wouldn’t fall off, clearly worried by the hysteria in his tone. “Haymitch.”

“’Cause I’m gonna make _sure_ they’re safe. I promise. But…” he continued. “Won’t be around forever. And then what? It’s a good world now, yeah?”

“Yes.” she said firmly. “It is a good world and they will be happy in it. They will be safe. _We_ will make sure they are.”

“Alright.” he breathed out.

“Alright?” she insisted.

“Yeah.” he nodded, outstretching his hand. “ _Yeah_.”

She entwined their fingers and give his a squeeze with a small laugh. “Alright.”

“I…” he faltered but steeled himself. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered, her free hand coming to cradle the back of April’s head. “All of you.”

The knock on the door was the only warning they got before Larcher came in with a metallic clipboard. It seemed they were a source of endless amusement for the man because he gave them an indulgent smile. “I have the blood test results… You _are_ expecting. Congratulations.”

The last part was added with a bit of hesitation, probably because of the way they had reacted the first time around…

This time, though, Haymitch and Effie simply exchanged a long look. She was grinning like a crazy woman – mainly because she had been _right,_ he thought – and he was smirking hard – because she was hot when she was all _I-told-you-so_. It wasn’t really a conscious decision to kiss her hard on the mouth, if only to erase the smug pout from her lips.

Larcher cleared his throat after a few seconds and Haymitch drew back, a little embarrassed.

“Sorry.” he muttered.

“Don’t be.” the doctor dismissed. “I take it… This is good news?”

“We weren’t trying.” Effie admitted, combing her fingers through April’s curls. “But it isn’t unwelcomed. Do you know how far along I am?”

“I would guess five or six weeks.” Larcher declared. 

They exchanged a look, they didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking. _District Four_. It figured they would make a baby during their honeymoon.

He picked up April with ease, careful not to wake her up, and suggested he waited outside when Larcher stated he wanted to examine her further before allowing her to go home. He searched Effie’s eyes but she nodded her assent so he figured she wasn’t too freaked out at the thought of being alone in a hospital room for now.

Their daughter was awake by the time he settled on a plastic chair in the hallway and grumpy about it. He dropped kisses on her cheeks and forehead, propping her up with his hands under her armpits.

“You’re gonna be a big sister…” he told her in low voice. “How’s that, sweetheart? You’re gonna _love_ it.”

His thoughts wandered to Hayden and how proud he had felt when his mother had placed the new baby in his arms for the first time… It was a very old memory, so old and fuzzy he wasn’t quite sure if it was real or if he had made it up…

His heart clenched at the thought of his baby brother. That wound, he felt, would never stop bleeding. Not really.

“My brother’d have been the best uncle, you know?” he confided in April, holding her close to his chest. “He’d have doted on you, sweetheart. He’d have loved you so much…” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “It’s a special thing to be a big sister, you’ll see.”

It _was_ a special thing. Such a special thing that it had almost killed him to lose it.

And he would make sure his daughter never had to go through what _he_ had gone through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last the answer you were waiting for... There's a new one on the way!


	50. 5 Months & 7 Weeks

Effie was smiling as she scooped dirty plates off the table, listening to Peeta coo at April. She didn’t think she had stopped smiling all week, truth be told. Haymitch stole the plates from her hands just as she was about to start on the dishes, discarding them in the sink to wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle her neck.

He had been smiling a lot more too lately.

His other hand found her stomach and if she had thought she couldn’t smile harder, she was mistaken. It was a bit thrilling to keep such a secret. She wanted to burst with it because the idea of having another child was making her… _happy_.

She was still scared and a bit apprehensive. She wasn’t thrilled about the pregnancy coming so soon after the last one. She wasn’t ecstatic about the idea of being forced to spend more time than necessary at the clinic. She knew there would most likely be difficulties down the line but…

She couldn’t quite bring herself to care for now.

Yes, a second baby seemed like a folly. But it was a folly she would gladly reconcile herself with.

Haymitch seemed to be of a similar mind. He freaked out a lot about how much she ate and about how much she rested and he was generally overprotective but that was only to be expected, she supposed. Every time she could see the fear invade his eyes, the enormity of the situation settling in, he picked up April and cuddled her until he was calm once more – and to say he had once mocked her for using Snowball as a teddy bear…

It would take a while to come to terms with the news, she figured: not to bask in happiness or curl up in sheer terror but to find a balance.

“And now we’re going to pretend that we don’t know Mama and Papa are being mushy right behind my back.” Peeta’s voice suddenly declared, clear and serious in the kitchen’s silence. “It’s an important skill to have, April.” 

Apparently delighted with the game she didn’t understand, their daughter giggled.

Haymitch rolled his eyes just as Effie glanced to check Peeta was _still_ sitting at the table with his back turned to them – which he was.

“I’m allowed to kiss my own _damn_ wife, boy.” Haymitch grumbled, slowly dropping his hand off her stomach.

“Sure.” Peeta laughed, bumping the purple stuffed elephant’s trunk against April’s nose. “It’s just you start kissing Effie and then you forget to stop. I’m trying to teach April not to end up traumatized.”

“Fancy yourself a comedian today, do you?” he snorted, dropping back on the chair he had occupied during lunch.

The soft smile was back on Effie’s lips and she decided to busy herself by fetching coffee cups before she could start crying at something so stupid as her family being completely normal. She still kept a sharp eye on the dog. Snowball was sitting next to Peeta’s chair, tracking his movements with unwavering attention, sometimes edging an inch closer…

She  knew what he was after.

“Snowball if you touch that elephant there will be _dire_ consequences.” she warned when the dog dared place a paw on Peeta’s thigh, not too far from where April’s leg was dangling. “It is _not_ your toy. Bad puppy.”

Snowball looked down, properly chastised and both Haymitch and Peeta laughed. Suddenly, though, the dog forgot his sad act. His head snapped up and he stared at the backdoor, his body all tense as if ready to bolt…

“Haymitch?” Effie asked uncertainly, taking a step back, _away_ from the potential source of danger.

Peeta half rose, April safe in his arms, while Haymitch’s hand flew to the abandoned knife on the table…

Then the backdoor opened and Snowball started barking in earnest, darting to the newcomers and jumping up in joy. His strength and weight made Katniss stumbled back into Johanna who bumped against the doorframe and let out an impressive string of curses. Bags tumbled everywhere.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m back, you stupid furry thing.” Katniss mumbled, awkwardly patting the dog on the head. “How bigger are you gonna get anyway? You look like a small polar bear.”

Her grey eyes eventually left Snowball to look at them with some uncertainty.

Effie realized they were still staring and had yet to say a word. She opened her mouth to greet them properly, to comment on how nice a surprise it was, but Peeta was quicker.

“Katniss.” the boy whispered with open awe.

Effie and Haymitch exchanged a look.

“Hi.” the girl replied, clearly guarded.

“Not exactly the warm welcome we hoped for.” Johanna snickered. “Wrong time or what?”

“Not at all!” Effie exclaimed, finally breaking free of the odd spell that had fallen on the room. “Come in! Come in! I’m so glad to see you!” She hugged Katniss first, a bit gratified when the girl briefly melt against her. “I missed you so much.” she murmured in her victor’s good ear.

“I missed you too.” Katniss admitted in a very low whisper that didn’t carry much further.

Haymitch was right behind her and she let him hug Katniss like he was obviously dying to, turning to Johanna who hastily stepped back with her hands raised in a defensive position. “Don’t you even _think_ about it, Trinket.”

Ignoring the implied threat, she advanced on Seven’s victor and embraced her all the same. Jo remained tensed and she pushed her away after only a few seconds. She gave in a lot more easily to Haymitch’s welcome hug, Effie noticed with a pang.

Watching the children greet each other was painful.

They stared at each other, apparently unsure how to breach the distance…

Effie took pity on them and plucked her daughter from Peeta’s arms, giving him a gentle not quite subtle nudge toward Katniss while she was at it. It seemed to do the trick because he stopped gawking at her and flashed her a beaming smile. He crossed the distance in a few large strides and when he opened his arms, Katniss stepped forward willingly, if a little carefully.

She heard Haymitch sighed in relief next to her.

Johanna, for her part, rolled her eyes.

“Mind if I use your shower?” she asked, picking up the bag she had dropped when she had come in. She was gone, stomping her feet up the stairs, before Effie could answer or tell her where to find clean towels.

Katniss broke the hug, her cheeks a little flushed, and cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t mind a shower either. I’m gonna go home and change.”

“Does that mean we get to keep Jo?” Haymitch complained, making a face. Effie whacked his arm but he simply shrugged. “What? She’s not miss little ray of sunshine.”

“Now, that is really uncalled for.” she rebuked. Although not particularly untrue.

“Can we talk?” Peeta cut in before they could start arguing, searching Katniss’ face almost with despair. “I mean… Not _now_ if you want to rest or… Can we talk _soon_? I have to go back to the bakery, you could come when you’re done, I… I will close up early.”

“I’m not sure I want to go to the bakery.” Katniss spat, a flush of irritation on her cheeks.

“Delly doesn’t work there anymore.” the boy said quickly. “I… Katniss, I was so _stupid_.”

“Yes. You were.” the girl declared, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Effie was feeling very out of place and was subtly trying to convey to Haymitch they should _leave the room_ but Haymitch, rude as he was, seemed to think the conversation concerned him too. Not that the children really noticed. Katniss shrugged. “But I was too. I will come by later.”

Before Peeta could thank her or Effie could repeat how good it was to have her home, the girl had grabbed her bag and had fled through the backdoor, forgetting to close it behind her as she was prone to do.

“You still need me to help you with the plumbing or you want to do that tomorrow?” Haymitch asked after a few seconds, displaying more tact than Effie would have given him credits for.

There was apparently a small leak in the kitchen at the bakery that Peeta would have liked to fix before it turned into a flood. And for some unfathomable reason he seemed to think Haymitch was an expert. Effie had suggested more than once calling an actual plumber, remembering only too well how it had ended the last time Haymitch had tried to fix something plumbing related – with her moping the floor and him very _very_ vexed.

“No, let’s go.” Peeta mumbled, sounding star-struck. “It shouldn’t take long anyway.”

Haymitch shrugged as if to say he was in charge and then turned to Effie. “You’re good to stay here with Jo? ‘Cause…” His grey eyes briefly darted down to her stomach and back up. “Try to take it easy, yeah?”

Peeta was fortunately too focused on staring at the door Katniss had just gone through as if it would make her come back quicker to notice anything odd.

“I will be fine.” she promised. He still looked a little worried so she rolled her eyes, the soft smile stretching her lips again. “I will take a short nap.”

Relief immediately flashed on his face. “Good. You do that, sweetheart.”

He pecked her lips – probably longer than was totally proper in front of the boy – dropped a kiss on April’s head and followed Peeta out the door. They hadn’t left the backyard yet that she heard him ask Haymitch if she was alright and why she should have been taking it easy. He muttered something about her still recovering from the last big panic attack even if it had been close to a month now.

She shook her head and turned to grab the purple elephant, intending to put April down for her nap before cleaning up what was left of their lunch. The stuffed toy was suspiciously absent from the table, the chair or the immediate vicinity.

So was Snowball.

“Oh, that dog!” she scowled. She tracked the puppy down to the living-room where he was lying on his bed, looking far too innocent. She pursed her lips at him. “Where did you hide it?” Snowball tilted his head to the side, playing confused. “None of that. I know you stole it. Bad puppy. Very bad puppy.”

It would come around eventually and April was getting fussy so she abandoned the search to carry her daughter upstairs, wondering a little what was taking Johanna so long. Seven’s victor wasn’t exactly partial to long showers or baths. She had mostly mastered her water phobia but it didn’t mean she enjoyed soaking any more than Effie liked staying in an untidy environment.

She heard absolutely no noise from the bathroom all the time it took to change April’s diaper and place her in the crib. She watched her daughter stare at the dancing stars and unicorn of the mobile, gently petting her hair until her little eyes closed, marveling at the way her fingers clung to the cat ragdoll in her sleep. April was so beautiful, so perfect… She could have stared at her all day.

Still, there was a mysterious disappearance to solve.

She hurried to her bedroom to grab the baby monitor, planning on knocking on the bathroom door on her way back. It turned out not to be necessary because Johanna was fast asleep on her and Haymitch’s bed – to be fair, it was the only bed upstairs but _still_ it wasn’t done to steal someone’s bedroom like that.

Effie didn’t want to disturb her so she simply took what she had come for and left, softly nudging the door shut behind her.

The now – _blissfully_ – free of junk guest room was staring back at her from the other side of the corridor but what they would do with it was still a bit unclear. She wanted to turn it into a bedroom for April so the nursery could be free for the new baby. April shouldn’t have needed it as much by then and she had seen so many _darling_ examples of little girls’ rooms in the magazines her mother kept sending that she was dying to give her daughter something just as cute.

She didn’t want to go too fast though.

It was early days still and if something happened to the baby…

She briefly placed her hand on her stomach and retreated downstairs. Cleaning the kitchen didn’t take long and she moved on to the living-room, a bit flustered because she hadn’t been expecting any guest and it wasn’t exactly up to her standards.

Haymitch would certainly have had something to say about the way she ran left and right with cleaning products but after a simple hour of work, everything was like she wanted it – the missing elephant having been found behind the armchair and Snowball banished to the backyard to contemplate the errors of his way. She forced herself to lie down on the couch because she was starting to feel a little dizzy.

“You are going to insist on having _all_ our attention, aren’t you?” she chuckled, slipping her hand under her blouse to gently rub her stomach.

This pregnancy felt different from April’s. With April she had spent so long being terrified of losing her that she hadn’t really connected with the baby until a few months in. That time… She felt the connection already. She felt it down to her guts. And she loved that baby. She kept telling herself it was too soon to be hopeful, that her medical history meant she had to be careful with her feelings to the risk of getting her heart crushed, that they didn’t know if it would stick yet… But she loved that baby and nothing would trump that.

Perhaps it meant she had healed a little… Perhaps it meant she had learned to be hopeful again.

She must have dozed off a little because next thing she knew, she startled awake to a baby crying. She sat up immediately, swung her legs off the couch, but the moment she tried to stand up, she had to sit back down and _breathe_. She didn’t need to glance at the clock to know it must have been close to four in the afternoon because the wave of nausea was fresh and strong and apparently morning sickness didn’t only _just_ happen in the morning.

_“What’s up with you?_ ” Johanna’s voice drifted through the baby monitor _. “They left you all alone?”_ Effie relaxed a little and took a minute to make sure she wouldn’t throw up before finally standing up once more, albeit more carefully than before. _“Not like your mom to leave you like that. What’s up with your mouth? That hurts?”_

Alarmed by what Johanna was saying, Effie forgot any thought about her own discomfort and rushed upstairs. Seven’s victor was standing next to the crib, rocking the baby, a finger in her daughter’s mouth for whatever reason…

“Her gums are irritated.” Jo mumbled. “Might be a tooth coming up.”

“Oh.” Effie frowned because she had noticed April had seemed really intent on sucking on her own hands lately but she hadn’t made the link and now she felt terrible about it. Had her daughter tried to tell her she was in pain and had she missed it? “How do you…”

“I remember from Finn.” the victor shrugged, fishing the pacifier from the crib and popping it in the baby’s mouth. “There are those plastic rings… You put them in the freezer and then you let her suck on it. Helps.”

They had purchased those, hadn’t they? They had purchased almost _everything_ when she had still been pregnant. She hesitated for a second but Johanna made no move to hand April back and her daughter seemed content for now so she turned to the dresser and rummaged in the bottom drawer – the one that was full of things they didn’t have an immediate need for. She found what she was looking for still under wraps and held it out for Jo’s inspection. “Is that the one?”

Seven’s victor gave it only a cursory glance. “Yeah.”

The mood was quickly becoming awkward but Effie wasn’t entirely sure why. Jo looked embarrassed to be caught rocking April and, more than that, to not seem able to let go of her. She wanted to suggest going downstairs to the kitchen so they could have tea – with lemon in her case in the vague hope it would soothe her stomach – but she was certain Johanna was working something over in her mind and that if Effie said the wrong thing, she would close up and storm off. She sat on the rocking-chair, waiting for Jo to either say it or…

The small swaying of the chair wasn’t doing anything for her nausea and she made a face, instinctively placing a hand on her stomach as if it would soothe the raspberry-sized baby causing all those problems.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jo asked, all suspicious.

Her eyes were studying her, probably seeing everything Effie was trying to hide and ticking off neat little boxes.

“Nothing serious. I haven’t been so well since the thing with the Peacekeeper.” she dismissed, choosing to follow in Haymitch’s footsteps with her lie. “I don’t sleep well and my body is making me pay for it.”

It was more honest than she would have been with the children but Jo was different. Jo had been right there with her and while she had tried to shield her as much as she had been able… Well, the fact was Peeta and Annie had been the ones to protect and that duty had tacitly fell on her and Johanna. They had been _allies_ in those cells. They had been…

She closed her eyes, not really wanting to let her mind go there.

“Where is he now? The guy?” Jo asked, her voice sharp and icy. If she found him, she would kill him. Effie knew that with clear certainty. Haymitch might have been tempted but Johanna would never pause to think.

“Gone.” she whispered. “He left a letter if you are interested. Peeta kept it.”

The boy had seemed to found more peace in it than she had. She didn’t care about the Peacekeeper or his reasons. She didn’t care if he was a nice young man who had lost his way. She didn’t care if they had brainwashed him into doing something he thought was his duty.

All she cared about was that she had been hurt, her friends had been hurt, her _son_ in everything but blood had been hurt.

“Only interested in making him bleed.” Johanna growled, predictably.

“Do not threaten to murder people with my daughter in your arms if you please.” she sighed, forcing her eyelids open to check April was still alright. The baby was now busy trying to grab the short strands of hair framing the victor’s face.

Jo rolled her eyes but turned her attention to the child. She never made silly faces or even attempted to start one of those ridiculous conversations Effie and Haymitch found themselves having so often with the baby but April didn’t look disappointed or unsettled about that. She didn’t cry out, she didn’t fuss too much… It seemed she felt safe with Johanna.

“You ever regret keeping her?” the victor asked. The question took her aback and she frowned at her, wondering where that came from. Her blue eyes shot to the younger woman’s flat stomach but before she could voice her question, Jo scoffed. “I ain’t knocked-up, Trinket. Just… When you came to Four the first time you said you didn’t know if you wanted to keep her.”

“I was not sure I would be any good for her.” she amended. “I wanted to do the right thing.”

“Yeah.” Johanna sighed, making April bounce once or twice to keep her entertained. The move was perfectly calculated. Not too strong, not too weak. _Experienced_. “Thing is… You had a point. People like us… They shouldn’t have kids. We’re _fucked_ up. _Too_ _fucked_ up. Told Annie in Thirteen. Would have told Finnick too if he hadn’t gone and gotten himself blown up.”

There was still pain in Johanna’s voice when she talked about Finnick, even after all those years. Effie could understand. Too much had been happening after the war for her to grieve properly for everyone. Her own grief had been a big blurred ball of pain and dead friends.

“I would never have been able to give her up.” she said quietly. She didn’t dispute Johanna her point because as disturbingly blunt as she was being, her argument was valid. “At least if I had… I would never have come back from it. I love her too much. It would have destroyed me.”

“Yeah, that’s what Annie claimed.” Johanna shrugged. “And I didn’t get it but I figured I owed Finnick ‘cause… There was nobody else, was there? Haymitch had to take care of Katniss. You were stuck in the city with Peeta. Beetee couldn’t wait to get the hell back to Three. Heavensbee… _Fuck_ knows what he would have done with a victors’ baby… A reality show probably.” She shook her head. “I was the only one left.”

“You are not some default choice, Johanna.” she chided her. “Finnick would have wanted _you_ to look after his family. You know that as well as I do.”

“Maybe.” the victor granted, looking at April instead of looking at her. “But I’ve always thought it would be… At first I thought I’d stay until the baby was born. Then, Finn was there and Annie was in too deep so I stuck around but I told myself it’d just be until the boy could take care of himself well enough and now…”

Johanna hadn’t sounded so frenzied in a long time. Not since the war. Not since she had appropriated the visitor chair in her hospital room. It might explain the drinking Katniss claimed was overboard, Effie mused.

“Now you do not want to leave anymore.” she observed quietly because it didn’t seem like Jo would be able to say it by herself.

“Kids die.” Johanna said bluntly, cradling April closer to her chest as if by reflex. It was odd and touching to see, the total contradiction between the harshness in the victor’s voice and the gentleness of her touch. Jo had been taking care of Finn for three years and it showed.

“Not ours.” she countered firmly.

It didn’t seem to calm Seven’s victor anxiety and Effie was a little bit relieved when she crossed the distance between them to hand April over. She felt better once her daughter was in her own arms even if that meant Johanna was now pacing the length of the room, making her even dizzier than she already was.

“I wasn’t gonna come back from Seven.” Jo announced – and Effie realized it wasn’t exactly a big surprise. “Once I was there, I was gonna call Annie and tell her I wasn’t coming back. I _did_ call but before I could say anything, she handed the phone to Finn and…” Johanna’s voice faltered and she buried her hands in her hair, pulling at the short brown strands. “He asked when I was coming home.”

“He misses you.” she pointed out. “You are as much his mother as Annie is.”

She wasn’t sure anyone had ever put it that bluntly for her before because Jo suddenly froze and turned to her, anger and uncertainty battling on her face. “How is that fair?”

She frowned, confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“He marries her, dies and leaves me to raise his kid.” Jo sneered. “How is that _fair_ , Trinket?”

She pursed her lips, feeling a pang of pain at the memory of Finnick’s cocky grin. He had been so young when he had died. _So_ _young_ … And he would have been an amazing father, she knew that without a doubt.

“I don’t think any of it is fair.” she sighed. “But I fail to see where the problem is, Johanna… Finn loves you, you love the boy, you and Annie get along well… Are you so unhappy in Four that being alone in Seven would be better?”

Johanna stared at her hard for the longest time. Then, she crossed her arms and walked to the window, looking out as if the street below held all the answers. Effie had to strain her neck to keep her in her line of sight but it seemed to be Johanna’s aim. Whatever she had to say, she didn’t want the weight of Effie’s gaze while she said it.

_If_ she said it.

Johanna Mason had only confided in one person as far as Effie knew and that person had been long dead. They were all friends, family even. That was the term they used. But she was well aware that some were closer than others and that, in that unit, Jo had always been a little apart, a little alone. Seven’s victor was a loner, it was who she was and they respected that but… It wasn’t good to keep everything bottled up inside like she did.

Effie knew for certain she had never searched for professional help after the war, that she hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened in those cells… Talking about it with Haymitch was always painful and it was never casual but it always somehow _helped_ to put words on it, her own words, her own narrative. It helped to _appropriate_ what had happened with sentences, to take some control over it. Effie couldn’t help but wish Jo could find someone that would help her the same way Haymitch did for her.

She thought it was about that.

What else could it be about?

It was the main reason Effie had been reluctant about keeping April and hadn’t Jo brought that up? Wasn’t she afraid of the same thing for Finn? After all, Johanna helped raise him but Annie was his _mother_ , Jo was just the Aunt who lived with them, she didn’t have the same degree of responsibility. She was, for all intents and purposes, the boy’s second mother but she could have run if she had so chosen, she had no real _obligation_ to stay. And she might feel it would have been safer if she _didn’t_. It _must_ have been about that. The cell or her time in the arena, her instability…

If asked, Effie would never have pretended Johanna Mason was the best candidate to raise a child.

“She doesn’t know.” the victor said, so low she almost didn’t catch it over the noises April was making around her pacifier.

“Annie?” Effie clarified. “What doesn’t she know?” Johanna’s jaw clenched. Her body was tense, ready to snap. And it dawned on Effie. “Oh, darling… Did you fall in love with her?”

She wasn’t certain how _that_ was going to work. As far as she knew, Annie was pretty much Finnick-oriented and…

“What?” Johanna scoffed. “No! What even…” Seven’s victor rolled her eyes, turning to face her – to better _glare_ no doubt. “ _Capitols_. Always have to see the wrong in everything. So what? ‘Cause we live together, you think I wouldn’t mind tapping that tree? You’re really…”

“Alright, alright. I understand.” Effie huffed, vexed. Perhaps she was letting the romantic in her speak and so what? “Then, pray tell, what doesn’t Annie know that would be so terrible?” Shame flashed on Johanna’s face, quickly followed by _pain_. “Oh.” She didn’t want to jump to conclusions this time around but… “ _Oh._ When?”

For a moment, Effie wasn’t sure she would answer at all. Gone was the defiant aggressive victor, Johanna looked… She looked like she had in the privacy of their cell. Weak. _Defeated_. The arms she had crossed in front of her chest were less a commanding posture now, she was almost hugging herself.

“He loved her.” Johanna said quickly. “He _always_ loved her. She was the one, you know. Greatest love. The whole _fucking_ fairy tale thing.” It seemed important to her for that to be acknowledged so Effie nodded once. Jo turned to face the window once again. “Love is weird.”

“That, I won’t dispute.” Effie chuckled, a bit sadly.

“In the city… It was another world.” Jo snapped, a bit defensively. “You know how it was, you remember. Haymitch fucked _you_. It wasn’t as bad as _that_. Haymitch fucked you so…”

“Language.” she chided by reflex, glancing at April. “And I fail to see how…”

“So what if it happened a few times…” Johanna continued, apparently not having even heard her. “It was in the city and it doesn’t count. He only loved _her_. I was just…” She shrugged. “Stuff happens.”

Effie realized she wasn’t as surprised by the news Finnick and Johanna had slept together as she probably ought to have been. They had always been close. And Jo… Well… Effie should have figured it out sooner probably but with Annie in the picture, she hadn’t thought Four’s victor would…

“I am not judging.” she promised.

Johanna was right.

The city had been another world, the Games… The Games had distorted everything, had made everything _ugly_. It was human to have sought some solace in the middle of them. And _she_ was certainly no one to tell Johanna what had been right or wrong. How many boyfriends had she cheated on with Haymitch?

The Games had been a very ugly bubble in the year where very bad things happened and not only in the arena.

“Annie doesn’t know.” Jo insisted. “Nobody knows.” The victor spared her a glare. “You don’t tell her or I’m gonna make sure you won’t tell anyone anything ever again.”

“Please.” Effie scowled. “Give me _some_ credit.” She studied the victor, fingers drumming on her daughter’s back as she hesitated. She couldn’t _not_ ask in the end. “Did you love him?”

“Love is weird.” was the immediate and only answer she got. Johanna took a deep breath and rubbed her arms, clearly unsettled. “Do I tell her?”

“Do you think you should?” she countered gently. “The way I see it… Perhaps some things are better left unsaid.”

Annie was fragile and easily unbalanced. What good would it do her to know her best friend had been having an affair with her dead husband long before they even got married? Honesty was often the best policy but in this case… In this case she wasn’t sure. It seemed a bit selfish for Johanna to unburden herself to the price of Annie’s hard earned peace of mind.

“Yeah.” Jo sighed. “That’s what I thought too. Just… Sometimes…”

“It becomes too much.” she supplied knowingly.

“It’s just not fair.” the victor sulked. “He should still be here. _I’m_ the one who should be…”

“No.” Effie cut her off. “Only madness lies that way, trust me.” April started crying and no amount of rocking would soothe her. “She is hungry.” she explained apologetically.

Johanna waved her hand and they made their way down to the kitchen without further ado. Since she didn’t protest, Effie handed her daughter back to Jo while she got the bottle ready only to grab her back to feed her. She was still peculiar about who she allowed to do that.

Johanna was still looking in the distance and, when Effie eventually placed the empty bottle down, the victor blinked.

“She was the love of his life.” the younger woman repeated blankly.

“It doesn’t mean he couldn’t be the love of yours.” she commented wisely, squeezing her shoulder.

Johanna shrugged it off and stood up to rummage through the cupboards like a very ill-mannered person. Effie let her do as she pleased, only requiring she prepared enough for two when it became obvious Seven’s victor was making herself some tea.

She watched her eat through her stock of chocolate chip cookies, orienting the conversation on her travels instead of pushing the issue.

It was a difficult piece of information to swallow though, she mused much later, once they had all had dinner together and Johanna had retreated to Katniss’ house – where there was an actual spare bedroom. The house felt empty suddenly, without the children’s voice calling each other, laughing or simply talking loud…

She was tired and grateful that Haymitch had volunteered to take care of April. When he eventually walked back into the living-room, he looked a little worse for the wear too. She was sitting in the corner of the L shaped couch, Snowball sprawled on one side of her with his head on her lap – eager to earn her forgiveness for the earlier theft – and Haymitch wasted no time in dropping on her other side, cushioning his own head on her thigh.

“Competing for my attention, are you, boys?” she teased, a little distracted.

She stopped petting Snowball to comb her fingers through Haymitch’s hair – which the dog took offense at and nudged her hand, which was how she ended up with both hands busy.

“I’m _fucking_ dead on my feet.” he muttered. “Always the same thing with that boy… He gets me to the bakery for one thing, then we end up moving furniture and what not…”

“It keeps you in shape.” she teased.

He grumbled something under her breath she didn’t catch. It was probably for the best anyway.

“How’s the jellyfish?” he asked, perking up a little. He reached out blindly with his hand but there was no easy way for him to access her stomach behind his head and he gave up quickly enough.

“Still making me eager for the morning sickness nonsense to be over.” she sighed. And then she pouted. “Johanna ate all my cookies.”

He snorted. “Ask Peeta for more.”

Her pout deepened. “He will get suspicious.”

“I’ll go to the store tomorrow.” he surrendered without much fight. That was the one good thing about being pregnant, Haymitch was _much_ more likely to do what she wanted. “We need more diapers anyway.”

“We are low on apricot jam.” she hummed, tugging a little on his hair.

“I’ll stop by Sae’s and ask her for more.” he mumbled. “The kids talked.”

“Did they make up?” she asked eagerly.

“Can’t say.” he shrugged. “Peeta had me moving stuff by then. Couldn’t hear. They’re on talking terms… Beyond that…”

“We will see, I suppose.” she sighed, hoping they would all soon get past this and go back to how it used to be. She relaxed further against the back of the couch, completely exhausted. “Haymitch?”

“Yeah?” His voice was rough and she figured if they didn’t go to bed soon they would fall asleep right there.

“I swear I will _murder_ you if you ever let this slip but…” she hesitated. “Did you know Finnick and Johanna…”

He briefly tensed and then relaxed. “Didn’t _know_ for sure but… Chaff and I had our idea. She told you?”

“She feels guilty because of Annie, I think.” she whispered. “I told her not to say anything but I am not sure it was the best advice.”

He reached for the hand that had stilled in his hair and brought it to his lips. The familiar itch of his stubble on her skin was welcomed. “It’s the right call. It was a long time ago anyway. What’s the point of bringing it up now? Let sleeping dogs lie, yeah?”

“I feel sorry for her.” she admitted quietly. “She’s always been so lonely… She takes care of Annie and Finn but… Who is taking care of her?”

Haymitch mulled that over for a second and then sighed. “That’s your way of saying we need to pay more attention to her, yeah?”

“She is one of ours too.” she reminded him. “We lost Finnick but… _She_ is still here.”

He kissed her hand again. “I hate it when you make so much sense, sweetheart.”

 


	51. 5 Months & 8 Weeks

Haymitch ripped out a pan of wallpaper and surveyed the rest of the room with a scowl. He was looking at _days_ of work. If not weeks. The former storage room turned spare room soon to be turned into April’s new room was still looking pretty ugly and Effie had _specifically_ instructed him to get rid of the awful wallpaper. Ripping it out wasn’t the most difficult part. He would need to get rid of the glue underneath, make sure the walls were clean before he could even try to paint over that… Assuming she didn’t pick up another wallpaper, in which case another world of pain entirely would be waiting for him.

“I can’t believe you managed to convince Effie this was a cupboard for so long.” Katniss snorted from where she was sitting on the floor, April’s baby monitor safe in her hands. She had kept her voice low and Haymitch was grateful for that, Effie was asleep on the other side of the corridor, in their bedroom. The dog was in April’s room, deep in slumber if the groans that sometimes came through the baby monitor were to be trusted. Everyone in the house was sleeping the afternoon away, it seemed. Aside for him who was being forced to _work_.

He supposed he should have been happy for Katniss’ company. Peeta was at the bakery and the girl had lingered after lunch, looking for something to do. She hadn’t quite been receptive to the idea of helping him redecorate but she had still stuck around.

Watching him work was apparently worth the distraction.

“To be fair, she wasn’t at her best when I told her that.” he snorted. “Guess she never thought twice about it.”

And given that she had forced him to toss everything away, he was glad he had held out for so long. It wasn’t that he cared about what had been crammed in there, it was mostly junk, but carrying heavy statues or broken furniture down the stairs wasn’t his idea of fun. Neither was redecorating, _that_ was _her_ thing.

“What are you going to do with it? A guest room?” Katniss asked.

“I think she was looking for a room to set up her workshop.” he answered casually.

“Oh, yeah… Peeta told me about that.” the girl frowned. “She wants to be a dressmaker, right?”

“That’s the plan.” he confirmed.

Or at least it had been before the news of her second pregnancy had come. He wasn’t sure what she wanted to do about that now. He didn’t want to deny her anything. If she wanted to go through with it, he would make sure to be there and help as much as he could but… Effie tended to be single-minded and he was afraid she would kill herself at work – and the baby with her.

She hadn’t mentioned what she was planning to do and he hadn’t really asked. She had a few commands to deliver but the workload so far seemed light. Besides, she was having fun so…

“I hope it works out.” Katniss offered sincerely. “She’s been a bit… Well, I don’t know. Before April I think she used to be really bored.”

He glanced at the girl over his shoulder as he ripped off more wallpaper. He wasn’t sure _bored_ was the right term. Effie had spent a good portion of her first year in Twelve trying to get back on her feet. Recovering was a time consuming process.

“She’s good.” he said, a bit defensive. He didn’t like the implications that Effie wasn’t – or at least _hadn’t been_ – happy in Twelve. He thought they had found a nice balance. They _were_ happy.

“Is she?” Katniss winced. “Peeta says the thing with the Peacekeeper still makes her sick.”

The panic attacks and flashbacks had actually faded by now. She was back to having the occasional nightmare and the recurrent urgent need to scrub the house clean. But that was how they explained her dizziness, her nausea and her tiredness.

Haymitch didn’t really like to lie but he understood why she wanted to keep the secret a little while longer. While there had been no blood loss or obvious problems that prenatal vitamins couldn’t fix, it was still a little early to shout it from the rooftops. Besides, the last time, he had kind of told everyone and he figured, this time, they would follow her rules. She could tell people when she was ready to. There was no pressure to do it right then.

A couple more weeks and they would be in the third month and maybe they would think about telling people. After the first ultrasound, maybe. It would be nice to have something to show the kids when they told them.

“That’s a lot of _Peeta says_.” he pointed out, purposefully switching topics. “Been talking to the boy a lot?”

Katniss had been back for a little less than a week and the situation with Peeta still seemed a bit volatile to him. The boy still lived in the flat over the bakery, Katniss still lived alone and occasionally let herself into their house at night. They had talked, that much he knew, but he wasn’t exactly sure what that talk had amounted to.

Jo might have had more of a clue but she had scampered back to Four after only two days, muttering something about having to face her demons. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with her – whatever had happened with Finnick once upon a time notwithstanding – but he was pretty certain she missed that kid of hers. Well, _of_ _Annie’s_ – but at that point he didn’t think there was a difference.

The girl was turning the baby monitor in her hands distractedly, staring at the open window rather than looking at him. Haymitch pretended to focus on his task but kept his attention on her in the corners of his eyes.

They had heard _everything_ about her travels during the daily shared dinners – that the kids had _both_ attended, which made Effie optimistic that they would fix this – but she hadn’t been as talkative about her future projects.

“We talked.” she replied eventually, a bit flatly.

He rolled his eyes. “ _And_?”

No, he wasn’t desperate for gossips, no matter what Effie accused him of. He simply wanted to make sure his kids would be _alright._ And, as a matter of fact, they were always better _together_. Even if they were too stupid to realize or remember.

“He swears nothing happened with Delly.” she muttered, a bit embarrassed.

Haymitch stopped pretending to take more wallpaper off to turn and study her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You believe him?”

She took a few seconds to answer that, her grey eyes falling on the baby monitor in her hands. “He never lied to me.”

It wasn’t exactly a heartfelt profession of trust but he figured Katniss had never been the most trusting sort anyway.

“You’re gonna take him back?” he asked next, because that was the real question, wasn’t it?

The boy was desperate for it, anyone could see it. He brought her flowers and pastries… He was always seeking her out, even when she went to the woods to hunt…

The sulk on Katniss’ face was a bit pained. “He hurt me a lot.”

Haymitch made a face and walked to the window, peering out at the calm street below. A few kids were playing hopscotch two houses down.

“You hurt him too. In the past.” he commented, at last.

“So that makes it alright?” she snapped, her anger flaring. “That makes it alright to hurt me _now_ because I wasn’t particularly interested in boys problems when I was sixteen and trying to _stay alive?”_

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what I’m saying.” he sighed, shaking his head. He kept looking outside, somehow reassured by the sight of a living Village. It was a nice change from when it had been cold, lonely and dead. “I’m saying… It’s always easier to hurt the ones you love most, yeah? Effie…” He let out another deep sigh. “Can’t tell you how many times I hurt Effie. Didn’t always meant to either.”

“It’s not the same, Haymitch.” Katniss grumbled. “You never broke up with her just so you could go flirt with another woman. You never made her feel like she wasn’t enough.”

He laughed at that.

A deep bitter laugh that rang dead.

“ _Told_ her she wasn’t enough every year for a decade.” he scoffed, closing his eyes. He didn’t like talking about the Games. He liked to keep the past in the past. And what he and Effie had shared were _theirs_ , nobody else would understand but… “I knew she loved me, you know. I’d known for a long time. I mocked her when she tried to hint at it. Every time. Put her down. Cause it was easier.” He shrugged. “Told myself I was doing it to protect her but truth was… It was _easier_ and I was that much of a coward.” Katniss was suddenly very silent and he didn’t find the courage to turn around and meet her probably judging gaze. “Funny how life works, yeah? You came around, almost ate those berries, started a war… Never occurred to me I might…” He forced the words past his lips, forced himself not to stutter or choke on them. “… love her too. Not until we were all in the deep end and I was scared she would go down with us.”

Not until the Gamemakers had made it clear they weren’t pleased.

Not until the Tour and its dangers.

Not until Thirteen.

Not until…

“I ain’t saying it’s the same and I ain’t saying you should take the boy back just ‘cause I’m telling you he probably really feels stupid about the whole thing…” he hesitated. “But… Sometimes _complicated_ makes it worth it.”

The sky had been clouded since that morning, fall was well on its way now, and a woman hastily made the children come back inside the house before big fat drops of rain could start falling. Haymitch slowly slid the window shut.

“It’s not just Delly.” she declared eventually. He turned around to lean his back against the closed window. Katniss didn’t really look at him, her cheeks were a bit flushed. “It’s what we want from life.”

“Okay.” he nodded, because that sounded reasonable. “What about it?”

“He wants to get married, have kids… The whole _traditional_ thing.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want that. Not now, at least.” She met his eyes at last, a bit defensive. “I did a lot of thinking on the road. If you can do it… If _Johanna_ can do it…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” he frowned. “You don’t owe anyone anything.” He averted his gaze, ill-at-ease, and feeling a bit hypocritical given the news they were keeping from the children. “Look, I told Peeta once and I’m gonna tell you now… I didn’t have any change of heart. Effie was pregnant, that’s it. There was no _choice_ in getting her that way. You get what I’m saying?”

“You didn’t want kids.” Katniss nodded. “Neither did Jo. But you both got them and now you’re happy with it.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not saying I’m gonna have a baby tomorrow. I’m just saying… _Maybe_ we can _talk_ about it again _someday_. Maybe then I will have changed my mind. We’ll see. If Peeta can accept that, good. If he can’t…”

She let her voice trail off.

Haymitch smirked, proud despite himself. “Look at you being all grown up and making sensible decisions…”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes but a smile was tugging at her lips. “I’m not against getting married either but maybe… In a year or two. Not _now_.” She shrugged. “But I wouldn’t mind saying we’re engaged.”

He slid down the wall to sit down. “Sounds like a plan.”

Her grey eyes tracked his every move. “You think he will be okay with this, then?”

He lifted his hands in ignorance. “Seems to me like a good compromise. That’s what relationships are made of, yeah?”

“Well, I don’t know… For you, Effie is clearly wearing the pants so…” she deadpanned.

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “She _ain’t_.”

“Oh, _please_.” Katniss chuckled. “When was the last time you did something you wanted instead of something _she_ wanted?”

He drew a nice blank. He shrugged anyway. “We pretty much agree on the important things.”

It hadn’t always been like that but nowadays… They were good at making important decisions _together_.

“Sure.” she teased and Haymitch decided she had spent far too long with Seven’s victor. “I had a talk with Plutarch…”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was usually the one dealing with the former Gamemaker, mainly because he was still assuming the role of _mentor_ in their little group. When it came to making sure they got what they needed from the government – getting journalists off their back for instance – he was the one making the calls.

“You’ve been talking to a lot of people…” he snorted.

“I’ve asked him about getting our remembrance books published.” she announced.

_That,_ he hadn’t seen coming.

“What?” he growled. He felt betrayed and a little angry. “ _Why_?”

The remembrance books about fallen victors and tributes had been their project. He hadn’t had too much time to focus on them lately, what with Effie’s pregnancy and then April and now a second baby on the way… But it was something he had shared with the kids, mainly with Katniss. His memories, his thoughts, his feelings…

“Because people need to know them.” Katniss countered firmly. “Because it’s not enough to write them graves and keep them on the shelf. We have to… We have to make sure people _remember them_.” She shook her head. “I told Plutarch there wouldn’t be any promoting or anything like that… We’re not doing this for money so… We agreed the money should go to some charity.”

“You _agreed_.” he repeated. “Never thought of asking _my_ opinion? You’re selling _my words_. My _memories_.” He wasn’t thinking so much about the tributes entries as to the _victors_ ’. Chaff and Finnick… So many others. There were anecdotes in there. Stories he had shared with the kids but had never meant to release to the avid gossipers. He shook his head. “You think it’s gonna be a good thing but they’re just gonna jump on it like vultures. You think it will be a tribute but they’re gonna sully it. They’re gonna…”

“Maybe some will.” she cut him off. “But maybe some won’t. I’ve already decided. I worked it out with Plutarch.”

“So I’ve got no say whatsoever?” he spat, hauling himself to his feet.

She got to her feet too. “You can edit what you want out.”

“I don’t want _anything_ out.” he snarled. “I want those books to remain where they belong. On _our_ shelves.”

“They don’t belong to us.” Katniss retorted, rising her voice. “They were _people_. Everyone needs to know who they were. They need to know…”

“You’re _crazy_.” he snapped. “If you think it’s gonna be different than people buying gossip rags just to see what’s the latest scandal, you’re _crazy_.”

“Well, maybe I am!” she shouted back. “But I’m doing this! They can’t be forgotten!”

“You…” he scowled, taking a step closer, an accusative finger pointed at her chest.

“ _What_ is going on in here?” Effie’s voice cut in, annoyed and cool. She looked a bit disheveled and still a little sleepy. It was the hand resting on her stomach that had him crossing the room to grab her elbow though.

“You’re alright?” he worried, placing his own hand over hers.

She looked up at him, puzzled. “Of course.” She studied him for a second and then frowned. “Are _you_?”

Fortunately for them, Katniss was never the most observant. If she found it odd that he was touching her stomach, she didn’t let on.

“Talk some sense into him, Effie.” she huffed, pushing past them and to the stairs.

A couple of seconds later, the front door slammed shut and they didn’t need a baby monitor to hear April’s cries.

“ _Fucking_ great.” Haymitch muttered, glaring at the space the girl had previously occupied.

“What _in Panem_ happened?” Effie asked, clearly bewildered, leading the way to the nursery.

He told her while she changed their daughter and cuddled the baby. He was done talking by the time they had headed down to the kitchen but he wasn’t done _sulking_. Even holding April on his lap didn’t cheer him up.

“Well… I cannot say I ever liked those books to begin with…” she hesitated. “Too many bad memories.”

“Wasn’t the point.” he shrugged, watching as she cut some apples and put them in the blender. “Point was… I don’t know… _Closure_.”

She pursed her lips and mused it over, only speaking again when she had the apple mashed in a small bowl. “Perhaps sharing the books with the rest of Panem is _Katniss’_ way of getting closure. Peeta mentioned before that she was obsessed with getting information on as many tributes as she could find… Perhaps it is her way of coming to terms with surviving, making sure those who didn’t are remembered.”

He placed April in her high chair with an irritated pout. “When did you become such an expert in coping mechanisms?”

“When I had to find some for myself.” she retorted.

He flinched, feeling like a jerk. “Sweetheart… I’m sorry.”

She dismissed that with an annoyed wave of the hand and made sure the bib was secured around April’s neck before bringing the spoon to their daughter’s mouth. They had just started feeding her solid food and, so far, it had been a wild ride. Mash was just as likely to end up everywhere in the kitchen than in the baby’s stomach.

The fact that her gums were red and irritated wasn’t helping the transition. He wasn’t looking forward to the moment when her teeth would actually push out. It would hurt like hell and he wasn’t comfortable watching his daughter being in pain.

“I am not saying she was right to take the decision without talking to you and Peeta first.” Effie stated eventually. “But you could perhaps _listen_ to her reasons.”

He sighed but nodded his agreement. He could at least listen to what she had to say.

Then something occurred to him and he frowned. “How come I always end up doing what _you_ want, Princess?”

Effie didn’t even blink. She simply flashed him a teasing smile, a spark of mischief in the eyes.

“I have you well trained, darling.” she deadpanned.

He considered being offended but he shook his head with a smirk instead.

He wasn’t sure she was entirely joking and he wasn’t sure he minded either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Katniss is right to want that book out? Is Haymitch justified to be angry about it? Will evelark make up for good? What are your thoughts?


	52. 5 Months & 11 Weeks

“Haymitch!” Effie snapped as she crammed April’s rag doll in the diaper bag. She looked around the living-room to spot anything useful she might have forgotten. There was no answer from upstairs and her irritation increased. “Haymitch, we are going to be _late!_ ”

She rubbed her now slightly round stomach over her loose woolen sweatshirt. She always wore loose clothes nowadays because she was starting to show. The children were puzzled by that because she had always favored curve-hugging outfits but she had passed it off by claiming it was fashionable. Eileen was less fooled by her excuses and deflections, she believed, but her friend was good enough not to bring up the obvious symptoms.

She grabbed a plastic toy as an afterthought and tossed it in the bag, running a hand in her disheveled hair. The living-room was a mess and she felt the urge to give it a good scrubbing but she pushed it _down._ There was no time for this. They were in a hurry.

Snowball must have sensed her temper wasn’t at its best because he was hiding behind the armchair, almost out of sight, and was munching on his purple monkey while tracking her every move.

“Haymitch!” she shouted, not bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“Yeah, I’m here. Hold your horses.” he grumbled, _finally_ coming back downstairs with April bundled in a weather-appropriate outfit and her darling red coat. He was also waving a few diapers in his free hand. “Here.”

She snatched them from him and forced them into the diaper bag, so annoyed tears were burning her eyes. She blamed the hormones and the last few nights of not enough sleep.

“We already had to push it back once.” she muttered under her breath. “And _now_ we will be late.”

“We’re still in time.” he sighed in a pacifying tone that did nothing for her ill mood. She didn’t like being patronized. “And it ain’t _my_ fault, sweetheart, don’t go blaming it on me.”

She pursed her lips. He was right, of course. It wasn’t his fault. They had been forced to reschedule the ultrasound appointment because April’s teeth were starting to come out and the girl was in so much pain it had given her a light fever. Their attention had been on the baby and there had been no time to go trudging around the District – barely enough to catch a blink of sleep here and there. April had cried all night for four days straight, leaving them ragged and herself exhausted. It had been hell.

And now, when she was supposed to babysit for them so they could go to the clinic – not that she knew _that_ , to be fair – Katniss had just cancelled on them because there had been sighting of a wild boar coming a little too close to the habitation area and the mayor needed her help to track it before it hurt someone _or,_ more likely, because she was still somehow at odds with Haymitch. Peeta was swamped at the bakery and Eileen had her arms full with the coffee shop and her own daughters.

“I wanted this to be just _us_.” she sulked. She wasn’t thrilled about going to the clinic to begin with. She didn’t like bringing April there if she didn’t have to. _And_ she had really wanted the first ultrasound to be something between Haymitch and her, without the baby to distract them.

“I know.” he offered, rubbing her shoulder. “Come on. Open the door, I’m gonna get the pram.”

The pram her mother had bought was difficult to get out of the house and for good reasons: it was the size of a small yacht. She relieved him from their daughter so he could have free hands to get the pram out and went to open the door…

… only to find her father on the other side of it, hand raised as if about to knock and luggage at his feet.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is this inconvenient?”

“Father!” she exclaimed in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

Haymitch quitted trying to maneuver the pram to join her, automatically placing a hand on her hip before utering a greeting. “Tadius.”

“I hope you will forgive me for not calling first.” her father winced. “I was in Ten and I thought I would come and see how things are progressing here. It was all last minute. I was hoping you would not mind hosting me for a night. The study will do just fine.”

Effie was torn between pleasure at the unexpected visit and annoyance at not having been warned. Her house _so_ wasn’t in any state to receive anyone – never mind someone from her family. It would go back to her mother who would insist on sending her a housekeeper…

“Come in.” Haymitch said when she remained mute. “It’s cold outside.” It wasn’t _that_ cold, she wanted to protest. It was only October and it would get colder before long. “You can stay, of course, but we’ve got to go right now.”

“Oh.” Tadius frowned, a bit uncertain. “I would not want to impose. I could stay at the inn and…”

“Do not be ridiculous, Father, you _are_ welcomed.” she cut in.

He searched her eyes for a moment before giving her a tentative smile and finally reaching for the baby in her arms. He stroke April’s cheek, his face softening. “She is so big now. She grew up a lot since the last time I saw her.”

“How about you two get some catch up time?” Haymitch suddenly suggested. “We could use a babysitter.” He plucked April from her arms before she could protest. “How about that, sweetheart? You want some grandpa time? Yeah? Awesome.”

Before either Effie or Tadius could protest, April was in her grandfather’s arms and Haymitch was giving him a short but to the point summary of what to do, not to do and how to calm her down if she started crying.

“I am not sure…” Effie panicked, right at the same time as her father protested with a “I cannot be left alone with a baby.”

Haymitch wrinkled his nose. “Look. She’s been fed, she shouldn’t need changing for a while yet and the house’s been baby-proofed. Just put her on the playing mat and make sure she doesn’t swallow anything she’s not supposed to. And she crawls away faster than you think if you don’t pay attention so keep your eyes on her all the time. We’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Haymitch.” Effie insisted, not at all reassured by the terror on Tadius’ face. Clearly it hadn’t been the welcome the man had hoped for.

“It’s gonna be fine.” Haymitch promised, dropping a kiss on April’s head before snatching the pink coat from the rack and wrapping it around Effie’s shoulders. “Come on, Princess. _Now_ we’re gonna be late.”

She wanted to protest some more, to grab her daughter and hold her close, but before she could tell what had happened, she was out the door and Haymitch was steering her down the street to the Village’s gates. She put her coat on properly, stealing glances behind her every two seconds.

“My father has _never_ taken care of a baby, you realize.” she hissed. “It is one thing to leave her with one of the children where she will be _safe_ but my _father_ …”

“I trust him.” Haymitch shrugged. “April will be fine. And it’s like fate anyway. We needed a babysitter and there he was.”

“Which, of course, brings up the question: what is he doing here?” she sighed, looping her arm around his. She wasn’t quite reassured to know her father was alone with her daughter but she supposed an hour wasn’t enough time for disaster to occur. With any luck, April would fall asleep.

“He said he was checking on the building progress, yeah?” he frowned. “You think there’s more than that?”

He had people for that and Effie was well aware of it. Certainly, Tadius had seemed very keen on traveling since the end of the war. The company was expanding to the Districts and she supposed, for someone who had never left the Capitol before, seeing Panem was an opportunity that was hard to resist. However, she highly doubted he would check on construction sites himself. He never had in the past.

Although to be fair, she had stopped helping him out with contracts deliveries and in person negotiation. She hadn’t been out of the house much since the incident with the Peacekeeper and she had stayed well away from the work crew and its foreman. The man seemed to judge her for what had happened, as if it was somehow her fault that he had lost an employee, as if she had made a fuss over nothing.

The story had gone all the way up to the hierarchical top, naturally. And her father had been incensed when he had learned what had happened. But… Effie wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole thing. She didn’t blame him naturally but she had been a bit reluctant to call home ever since.

The fact that she was hiding something and that her mother had a gift to smell secrets wasn’t exactly helping.  

“With my parents, there is always more than that.” she countered grimly.

Now Haymitch didn’t look that happy with his quick decision making. By the time they reached the Village’s gates, they had looked back so many times Effie was sure one of them would suggest going back to fetch their daughter.

“We’re being stupid.” Haymitch mumbled. “She’s _fine_.”

She wasn’t that confident. In her opinion, her daughter would _only_ be fine with either of them there.

Still, she let him convince her to move along. She spent the whole trip to the clinic thinking up scenarios of what could go awry and then convincing herself she was being ridiculous. They _were_ late in the end and, even though she apologized profusely, the nurse didn’t look entirely happy.

Effie felt mortified. She had always been a punctual person but having a baby had taught her that it was difficult to be on time with an almost six months old child.

They were ushered into the examination room and she was asked to lie down. Haymitch had barely helped her on the table when Larcher showed up, waving away all her apologies. The doctor asked about April and her teeth and he looked so genuinely interested that Effie gradually relaxed. She would never be comfortable in the clinic but Larcher was making it easier to be there.

“Any problems?” the doctor asked as he got everything ready.

Effie shook her head. “I am still a bit dizzy and nauseous at odd times of days. And I am still starving the rest of the time. It wasn’t like this with April.”

“Every pregnancy is different.” Larcher explained, smearing gel all over her stomach.

Haymitch grabbed her hand, perching himself on a nearby stool with obvious excitement. She grinned at him and he smirked right back, eyes sparkling in pure happiness. It wasn’t something she had ever thought she would see and she felt a pang for a second, because this, right then, was _perfect_.

Sometimes, she wished she could talk to the woman who had been cowering in a corner of a cell for months. She wished she could tell her to hold on because _this_ was coming, because she would be _happy_ , so happy she would think it would make her burst.

They exchanged a long stare and she knew he felt the exact same way. They didn’t need words to understand each other. She didn’t need to tell him she loved him and he didn’t need to hear it. Just like she didn’t need him to tell her. She knew.

“Here we go.” Larcher murmured for himself, placing the probe on her stomach and moving it around.

She listened to the familiar whooshing sounds with some anxiety, desperate to hear that the baby was right as rain but dreading a little that he wouldn’t be. She wanted to hope. She _hoped_. She didn’t let herself think about possible miscarriages or how difficult it would be to jungle two babies. She had carried April, her daughter had survived, and so would this one. She couldn’t let herself think differently.

“Sweetheart.” Haymitch breathed in just as the sound of small hooves started echoing in the room. The heartbeat was strong and steady and she laughed in relief, wiping the tears that ran down her cheeks. Haymitch’s jaw was clenched, he looked so emotional she squeezed his hand but he didn’t seem to be able to glance away from the screen. “Look.” he chided her a little.

So, she did.

Ten weeks ultrasounds were always difficult to make out but once Larcher helpfully pointed the baby out, she couldn’t tear her gaze away either.

“Hello, jellyfish.” she whispered.

“You have very aquatic nicknames.” the doctor teased, tapping on a few keys. To print pictures, probably. “Everything looks perfectly normal, Effie.”

“You’re _sure_?” Haymitch worried. “They’re both alright?”

“Perfectly so.” Larcher smiled, placing the probe back on its cradle and handing her some paper towel to clean the gel out. “We will have to run some tests, the same as last time. It is just routine so there is no need to be alarmed.”

“I remember.” she nodded, still smiling. As soon as she had gotten as much of the gel off as she could, she placed her hands on her stomach, simply feeling it. It wasn’t long before Haymitch’s hand joined her there. She looked up at him, beaming. “We are having a baby.”

The first ultrasound was always magical in her opinion. That was when it became… _real_.

“I noticed.” he smirked, his thumb rubbing soothing circle on her skin. “We’re starting to have quite the collection of them, you know.”

She laughed again, feeling a little high on happiness.

“I will print you a picture.” Larcher offered, tactfully retreating to the other room to give them some privacy.

Haymitch helped her straighten her clothes and stole a kiss once it was done. He rested his forehead against hers as he brushed his hand over her stomach again. “We’re having a baby.”

“I noticed.” she echoed, still grinning so hard it was starting to hurt.

The doctor made enough noise coming back that they moved apart but not quite enough that they weren’t still touching. Larcher gave them the picture that Haymitch immediately stashed in the inside pocket of his coat where _hopefully_ nobody would come snooping.

“As far as term goes, I think we are looking at another April baby.” the doctor told them.

They were redefining the concept of April showers, Effie decided.

She was walking on a cloud by the time they were on their way back to the house. She almost forgot to worry about April. At least, until she spotted the Village’s gates. At that point she stopped prattling about how they should sort out April’s old clothes to see what they could reuse and what they should box to put in the attic to start asking Haymitch without pause if he thought their daughter was alright. Haymitch, who had humored her all the way back by nodding and humming at appropriate points without listening to a single word, seemed torn between prompting her to quicken the pace and making sure she didn’t overtax herself.

They had been wrong to worry.

While Tadius looked in over his head, obviously terrified of doing the wrong thing, April seemed just as happy as she had been lately – which was _not a lot_ because her gums hurt. The first thing Effie did was scoop her daughter up from the playing mat to cuddle her close to her chest. She wanted to tell her about her little sibling but with her father there, she kept silent.

Haymitch outright laughed at Tadius’ exhausted face. “Need some coffee?”

“Coffee would not be amiss.” her father answered, a little stiff. “Thank you.”

Effie hid her smile in her daughter’s hair and took a seat on the couch, covering April’s face with kisses to make up for her short absence. Haymitch’s fingers combed her own hair, ending on her nape. The possessive but gentle squeeze made her look up in question.

“Tea for you?” he asked. “And something to eat, yeah? You’re a bit pale.”

She checked the clock on the wall and made a small face. If habits were to be trusted, morning sickness – that weren’t just in the morning – would hit in a half hour or so and she _really_ didn’t want to throw up. “Crackers perhaps. And lemon in the tea, please.”

“Sure.” he smiled and dropped a kiss on her forehead, stroking April’s hand once before disappearing in the kitchen, followed by Snowball. The dog would want to be let out, she supposed. 

She blushed when she realized her father was staring.

“Thank you for watching April.” she offered after clearing her throat. “And, please, accept my apologies for the hectic welcome. If I had known you were coming…”

She let her voice trail off. If she had known he was coming she would have made sure the house was spotless and she would have cleared her schedule.

“No apologies needed. It was rude of me to come unannounced.” Tadius dismissed, studying her. “Is everything alright with you, Euphemia? You have not been… Well, you have not called as often. Your mother is worried you are somehow crossed with her.”

“Not at all.” she denied, fishing the stuffed elephant abandoned further down the couch to hold it in front of April to keep her occupied. Of course, as soon as her daughter spotted it, she tried to put it in her mouth. “I have been busy lately. April hasn’t been well and I had some work with… I told Mother about my professional projects.”

“Yes, she mentioned them.” her father hummed, not sounding very impressed. Elindra hadn’t been either. “I could help you with that if you so wished.”

“Thank you, no.” she replied quickly. “I do not need your money.” She would _never_ accept money from her parents. _Never_. It always came with strings attached and more complications than she cared to deal with. Tadius looked hurt though so she hurried in clarifying. “It is something I want to do by myself. You do understand, don’t you?”

Her father was proud of the family company so he could certainly understand wanting to make one’s own way. At least, she hoped so.

“I wish you the best.” Tadius smiled and even though it was tense it also seemed genuine. “Effie…”

Haymitch came back with a tray and her father fell silent which he couldn’t help but notice. There was some awkwardness for a few seconds. Haymitch studied Tadius, Tadius avoided his eyes, then he looked at Effie who shrugged her ignorance… In the end, he shrugged back and lifted April up.

“Guess someone needs to be changed.” he mumbled, giving Effie a long stare. “You shout if you need _anything_ , yeah?”

She rolled her eyes at his overprotective act. “I am not an invalid, you know.”

“You had a big day, you need to take it easy.” he countered firmly.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at him. “You are walking a very thin line telling me what I should or should not do.”

“Doctor’s orders.” he reminded her with an innocent shrug that made her roll her eyes again. He grabbed the mug he had obviously prepared for himself and disappeared upstairs. She could hear him talking to April all the way up and she smiled despite her annoyance.

“Is everything alright with you?” Tadius asked as soon as he was out of earshot. “You _do_ seem a little pale, Effie. And what is this about a doctor? Have you been ill?”

That was a lot of questions and she made a small face, grabbing her mug and a couple of crackers, hoping that it would be enough to quell her sure to come nausea. “Not at all, do not concern yourself. Haymitch is simply… overprotective. I am fine. More than fine, really.”

She toyed with the idea of telling her father. After all… She was in the middle of the third month and everything _was_ fine. They should start telling people…

“Are you quite certain?” Tadius frowned, taking a sip of his cup of coffee. “I doubt the medical technology is up to par in this part of the country. Perhaps you should go somewhere else to get checked if you are feeling out of sort. Perhaps not to the Capitol if you are still avert to the thought but I heard Four has excellent hospitals.”

She forced a smile. “I am fine. _Truly_.”

Her father studied her for a moment and then looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands. “Does it have to do with… _the incident_? I read a lot about your condition, Effie. All experts agree that such an event could trigger a setback and…”

“What condition is this exactly?” she cut him off, a little cold.

She knew what he was talking about naturally – or _avoided_ talking about rather. The Peacekeeper he had unknowingly sent to Twelve to build himself another portion to his empire.

It was unfair to think like that, she knew, but…

“Post traumatic stress disorder.” Tadius said plainly. “It is completely natural for you to experience…”

“I know what it is natural for me to experience.” she interrupted again before he could launch himself into a recitation of various symptoms. Her father had always been a researcher. He could spend hours reading about something. She took a deep calming breath because Tadius looked uneasy and she didn’t think his aim was to cause her pain. He was just worried. “Father, I am… _touched_ you are taking such an interest in me and what happened to me but…”

“Of course I take an interest.” he scoffed. “You are _my daughter_ , Effie. And what was done to you was _wrong._ The fact that the Districts are refusing to acknowledge that Capitols were tortured too is…”

“ _But_.” she insisted, clenching her teeth at the _torture_ word. “I do not like being forced to talk about it or _think_ about it just to satisfy your curiosity. You took it upon yourself to ask Haymitch about it… Unless I directly address the subject, I would thank you not to mention it. I would rather you didn’t but ask Haymitch if you must.”

She gulped down a few mouthfuls of tea, placing her free hand over her stomach as if to better protect her jellyfish from such conversations. She was glad April wasn’t in the room anymore. She didn’t want that sort of things discussed in front of her babies.

She felt a bit light-headed but that could have been the topic just as much as her pregnancy and she allowed herself to be proud that she had managed to talk about it without working herself into a panic.

“My apologies.” Tadius sighed sadly. “It is just… I do not want you to think for one second I knowingly sent that man here. The Peacekeepers were pardoned, as you know, and it is within their rights not to mention their past job on their resume. We have put more screening processes in place now.” He shook his head. “I like to believe we… _mended_ our relationship. Your recent distance… Your Mother and I are concerned you are angry with us because…”

“I am not.” she denied. “Honestly, Father, I am _not_. There simply has been a lot going on and…” She rubbed small circles on her stomach, coming to a decision. Perhaps it was the wrong one but… She was _so happy_ about it anyway. When she thought back to earlier, to the strong sound of the baby’s heartbeat… She could have burst with joy. “I will tell you what is going on but you have to _swear_ to me you won’t tell Mother yet. Or _anyone_. I would like to wait a couple of weeks more before it becomes public knowledge.”

Tadius frowned in concern, clutching his cup of coffee hard between his fingers. “You are not ill, are you? You just said…”

“I am expecting.” she smiled.

She watched as a myriad of emotions washed over her father’s face and she was glad she had chosen to tell him right there and then just for this. Telling her parents on the phone wouldn’t have been the same at all. Perhaps she needed to invest in one of those phones with a screen that Elindra assured her were the latest rage and that would allow them to _see_ April more often. Haymitch was reluctant but he might be convinced. And it would be worth it just to see that sort of things.

“Congratulations.” he offered at last, soberly but with enough suppressed emotions in his voice that she decided he was genuine. “That is _marvelous_ news.” His face softened. “I am glad it is not something direr, we have been so worried, Euphemia… Your mother…”

“You cannot tell her yet.” she insisted. “We haven’t told anyone and I want to do it myself this time. _Properly_.”

Not because the newspapers had gotten a hint of the gossip but on _her_ terms. With the drama between the children occupying the press, they had that luxury.

“My lips are sealed.” he promised, placing his cup of coffee back on the table to stand up. She stood up too, not quite knowing why or what was going on, and remained frozen in surprise for a moment when she was treated to a rare hug. The war had brought its lot of surprises but the deep changes in her parents’ behavior were the more astonishing to her. “I am happy for you, my dear. I am happy to see you so happy and I am happy you found a good man.” It was more than she had ever expected and she was grinning hard when he drew back from the hug. “Of course, now we can pretend what I brought you is a congratulation gift rather than a _forgive me for my company’s shortcomings_ present.”

Her face lit up. “You brought me a present?”

She felt like a little girl suddenly. Her father had always bowed to Elindra’s wishes and had often granted his daughters’ requests but it had been rare for him to go and buy them something they hadn’t asked for first. Spontaneous gifts were special and they were the best.

“Of sort.” he smiled smugly with the apparent certainty that she would be delighted. “Actually, it is what decided me to visit you. I went to an auction while I was in Ten and… Well, it is easier to show you.”

She sat back down while he went to the hallway to rummage in his luggage. She nibbled on a few crackers, wondering how long Haymitch would hide upstairs and if he would be mad that she had told her father without him there.

Any thought of that flew out of her head when her father came back in the living-room with a violin case.

“You bought me a violin?” she asked, her mouth suddenly parched.

She finished her tea in a long mouthful, pretending she didn’t notice how shaky the mug was in her hand. She didn’t know how she felt about that. It was a thoughtful gift certainly but violins weren’t something she had contemplated in a long time. Her grandfather had taught her when she was still a little girl and she had kept up the practice after his death up to the Quell. After that… Well, her apartment had been ransacked so many times… She hadn’t been surprised to be unable to find her grandfather’s violin in the mess. It was expensive, probably the most expensive thing he had owned. A luxury for a man of his means. A precious one to be treasured and taken care of. Thinking about it was enough to make a lump appear in her throat. There were very few things she had _truly_ been attached to: the violin, a music box full of mementos, some pieces of jewelries… The loss of them… She had always regretted having lost them to the war.

“Not just _a_ violin, dear.” he protested, lying it out on the couch next to her. “The case is new but the instrument… I recognized it as soon as I saw it.”

She gasped when she saw it. So familiar… “Impossible.”

“And yet…” Tadius chuckled gently. “It had been sold quite a few times since the war, not always to its true value. Why, I had it for _half_ its price. It hasn’t always been well cared for but I had it tuned. Cords are new and it has been polished… The bow is new too. I am afraid the original was lost.”

She laid a tentative hand on the gleaming wood, feeling her eyes well up with tears she didn’t try to blink away. There were so many memories attached to that violin… So many hours spent with her grandfather… So many carefree afternoons… So many lonely nights after she had become an escort and the music had seemed like a worthy escape for a while…

The violin hadn’t indeed been well-cared for. She cradled it on her lap, ran her fingers along the deep scratches…

“They could not erase them.” her father winced. “I am sorry. I would buy you another but I know how much this one means to you. When I saw it… Well, truth be told, I am not one to believe in such nonsense but it felt like destiny.”

“No.” she whispered, her sight getting blurry. A few tears fell on the wood and she hastily wiped her cheek. “It is perfect. _So_ perfect… _Thank_ _you_.”

And then she was sobbing. Openly grossly sobbing. She clutched the violin to her chest and gasped for air, not even looking up when she heard Haymitch’s hurrying down the stairs or her father’s panicked clumsy attempts at comforting her. She was vaguely aware Tadius was explaining the situation to a bemused Haymitch and ended up with his arms full of his granddaughter for his trouble. April was wailing too, that much she knew, but she still couldn’t stop crying.

“You need to calm down, sweetheart.” Haymitch chided her firmly, wrapping his arms around her until she relaxed against him. He pressed a kiss against her temple and another against her forehead. “It’s no good for the baby to get that upset.” He looked up hastily at her father, clearly realizing his blunder. “I mean… The shrimp.”

“I told him.” she stuttered between two sobs.

“Oh.” he frowned. “Good then. Alright. Still need to calm down, Princess.”

“I can’t help it.” she gasped. “Hormones.”

She distinctly _heard_ him roll his eyes.

It took a few minutes before she finally managed to stop crying. Time enough for her father to offer congratulations and for Haymitch to accept them. Time enough also for April to calm down and start munching on her cat rag doll.

She laid her violin back on her lap when Haymitch let her go to fetch her a glass of water. She stroke the wood lovingly under her father’s watchful eyes. She took a few sips of water and muttered an apology, a bit embarrassed by her behavior. Being so emotional wasn’t something about being pregnant she had missed.

Haymitch shrugged it off and handed the cold plastic ring he had fetched from the freezer to April. The baby was _much_ happier with that in her mouth. It soothed the pain in her gums. It was left to Tadius to pick it up every time she tossed it on the couch. One of her favorite games. She liked to do that with all her toys, Effie suspected that had a lot to do with Snowball always carrying them back to her.

“Well, let’s hear it then.” Haymitch demanded, dropping in the corner of the L shaped couch, between her and her father – close enough that he could reach April if need be. “Never knew you played.”

“Oh, no!” she protested, shaking her head. “I haven’t practiced in years and…” She looked at her hands and winced. “I broke a few fingers since then. I wouldn’t remember.”

_They_ had broken a few fingers, she meant. Perhaps they had known her hobbies included music, perhaps it had been another form of torture. Or perhaps they hadn’t known and it had just been a lucky guess for them.

“Muscle memories, sweetheart.” Haymitch insisted. “Try it out. Nobody said you have to play like Mozart.”

She placed the violin under her chin all the same, the position so familiar it _hurt._ The pain wasn’t all emotional though. The shoulder that had been so badly injured it had needed surgery _ached_ and she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep playing long. The angle was too awkward for it.

The moment the bow hit the cords, she closed her eyes and let her memories guide her.

It was odd at first. Clumsy. Out of practice. It took almost two whole minutes before she managed to get something smoother out of the instrument, before she managed to make it _sing_ like she wanted it to.

It left her exhausted and she gently placed it back in its new case, rolling her shoulder a few times, blushing under the praises she didn’t deserve. Still, watching her father make April clap was a cute sight – not one she would ever have thought she would see – and it made up for her lack of skills.

She let herself be persuaded to play again after dinner that night, because the children could be convincing – and because she was desperate to put an end to the bickering between Katniss and Haymitch.

She played something light and quick that didn’t sound as good as it was supposed to. Yet everyone was laughing and clapping and she let herself forget about imperfections.

The violin was scratched beyond repairs.

So was she.

But they could still produce music all the same.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, FF wasn't letting anyone upload docs yesterday so I had to wait until they fixed it to post. Anyway, how did you like this chapter? Tadius babysat for the first time in his life! And he is also the first to know... And the baby is doing well... What are your thoughts?


	53. 6 Months & 13 Weeks

Haymitch leaned against the kitchen’s counter, not quite able to shake the soft smile off his lips. Peeta was lighting the candles on the cake, _struggling_ to light the candles on the cake rather, and everyone was teasing him. Johanna was merciless and Katniss kept poking him in the side every time he failed, which made the boy laugh and prevented the candles from being lighted any quicker. Annie was regularly telling them to let him work but Finn was finding the whole thing hilarious and kept laughing loud, accidentally blowing out the candles Peeta had managed to light so far.

As for Effie, she was standing next to the table, holding fast to April’s waist. It might not be very proper to make her stand on the table between cutlery and plates but neither he nor Effie really cared. Their daughter had recently discovered the standing position and now did little else. She used the crib’s bars to haul herself up and then she bounced there until she fell flat on her ass. Alternatively, she also used Snowball but since the dog never really held still, the falling happened a lot quicker. She couldn’t stand by herself yet but Haymitch was pretty sure it wouldn’t be long before she was driving them crazy by walking around.

She was growing up so fast…

“You know you could help.” Peeta grumbled, glancing at Haymitch over his shoulder.

Haymitch lifted both hands in a helpless gesture. He wasn’t about to try to light forty-four candles. In his opinion, they could have lost a few in there. Or buy two big ones shaped like _four_. The number of candles on that cake was actually a little embarrassing.

That morning, Haymitch had been woken up with soft but purposeful kisses along the length of his jaw. He had rolled with it before he had even been properly awake, not of a mind to protest when Effie was in that mood. She had given him a blow job that had had him counting stars on the ceiling for a long, _long_ time. Then she had let him go back to sleep only to wake him up again mid-morning by placing April on his chest.

April had been holding a couple of colorful birthday cards that had been a little worse for the wear from having been crumpled in her little fist. He hadn’t realized before he had seen the cakes and glittery words that it had been his birthday. There were cards from Effie’s parents – the _glittery_ one that had exploded everywhere and had him forced to take a thirty minutes shower to make sure he didn’t have any left on him – her sister, Plutarch and the Clarkes. He had started protesting when Effie had carried up a breakfast tray loaded with – almost burned – toasts, coffee and an assortment of jam but she had refused to listen.

All he had been allowed to do was cuddle with April and enjoy his day.

He had never been one to celebrate his birthday. The previous year it had gone unnoticed, lost in the whole drama of trying to decide what to do with the baby she had been carrying. He hadn’t minded, that suited him very well. He didn’t think he had celebrated a birthday since his family had been alive. The last time had been his sixteenth birthday probably.

And now, there he was, celebrating his forty-fourth.

He had been surprised but strangely happy when he had answered the knock on the front door to find his arms full of little Finn, his joyful scream of _“Surprise, Uncle Mitch!”_ loud enough to deafen him. He knew it was probably Effie’s doing but he was touched Jo and Annie had made the trip from Four for him.

The kids had showed up late, flushed, a little disheveled and guilty-looking – a clear sign to anyone with eyes of what they had been up to and probably the only reason Effie hadn’t ripped their heads off for putting the whole birthday thing off schedule. They had had a nice lunch though. And then Peeta had dashed to his house to get the cake and the candles business had started.

It was a bit overwhelming, truth be told. The kitchen seemed too small for so many people but Effie’s suggestion to move the party to the dining-room had been shut down. Their laughter was loud, there were wrapped presents on the corner of the table – and the shiny paper had caught April’s eyes earlier before she had been distracted by the tiny dancing flames – as well as a huge coffee and chocolate cake. All of it for him.

It was a bit overwhelming and he was a little stunned.

He wasn’t used to being at the center of things like that.

Katniss’ poking of Peeta’s side was slowly but surely turning into her hand rubbing his thigh under the table and Haymitch hastily looked away. As innocent and encouraging as the gesture looked, he was too aware of how quickly that sort of things could turn into something else. He was happy the kids had _finally_ made up but he still didn’t want to know more than necessary. He had learned too much about that side of their relationship from the distressed girl during their separation as it was.

Johanna was still goading Peeta despite Annie’s amused rebukes. He didn’t know what was going on there either. Had Jo come clean in the end? It was hard to say. He wasn’t sure Annie would have held a grudge in the first place.

His smile softened even more at Finn’s antics. The boy was perched on his mother’s lap and was bouncing in excitement.

In the end, his gaze traveled to Effie. It _always_ traveled back to Effie. She was leaning forward a little to whisper in April’s ear. He watched her press a light kiss to their daughter’s cheek, her eyes sparkling with delight.

She was _glowing_.

This pregnancy was so different from the first one there was no comparing. The morning sickness had finally faded and she was just… She shone bright. Her hair was up in a sort of braided crown with a few wayward strands here and there. She was wearing a dress he had never seen before but he was pretty sure he had been there when she had bought the fabric so it must be one of hers. It was a long sleeves thing, with black and white squares and a red ribbon tied under the breasts in a pretty bow… She was showing. The dress only made it more obvious.

Her baby bump was small still but it was round and always firm under his palm. She had felt the flutters for the first time a few days earlier and the smile had been permanently fixed on her lips since. He couldn’t wait to feel it too. He knew it would be a few weeks but _he_ _couldn’t_ _wait_. 

Everyone’s eyes had lingered on her bump a few times but, so far, nobody had commented. Asking Effie Trinket about her _budging_ stomach clearly wasn’t clever and everyone in that room was too much of a survivor to make that mistake. Even Johanna.

He wasn’t sure why she had chosen such a revealing outfit though, not when she had dutifully been wearing loose dresses for the last couple of months.

The sapphire wings of the butterfly sometimes caught the light making it look as if it was fluttering on her collarbone. She wore the necklace he had given her on their wedding day as often as she could and he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t like the way it looked on her.

“Those candles are broken.” Peeta snapped. “I’m telling you!”

Katniss rolled her eyes and snatched the lighter from his hand. “Let me do it.”

“More your thing anyway, girl on fire.” Jo sorted.

Effie straightened and lifted April up. She must have sensed his gaze because she turned to him with a bright smile and he walked over without thinking twice about it. He stole a kiss just because he wanted one and then plucked their daughter from her arms, trying to hide his smirk because the pretty pink dress she was wearing was all creased and the flower on her headband was all askew. He let Effie fix that while he blew raspberries in April’s neck to make her laugh.

He loved his daughter’s laugh.

“Haymitch, blow the candles before they snuff out again.” Peeta called, distracting him from his shrimp and his wife.

“You have to make a wish, Uncle Mitch!” Finn exclaimed.

_A wish_ …

He met Effie’s eyes and she smiled knowingly, her hand briefly resting on her stomach. Johanna’s sharp gaze followed the move. Seven’s victor then met his eyes with a raised eyebrow. He smirked. She rolled her eyes.

But she held her tongue for now.

He blew out the candles but didn’t manage to get them all in one go.

“Didn’t have to put forty-four.” he grumbled, nudging the boy in the shoulder. “Help a guy, Finn.”

The kid was only too happy to help him blow on the cake.

“What did you wish for?” Jo asked with that cruel spark of mischief in her eyes that told him he and Effie would get taunted about what they were hiding for the rest of the day.

“He can’t tell us or it will jinx it.” Annie chided her.

He had wished for everything to be always like _this_. Easy, light and loving. Everything he never thought he could have. Everything he would die to keep.

“Open your presents.” Katniss cut in, passing one of the them along while Peeta started cutting the cake.

He pointedly drew back Effie’s chair before going back to his own, plopping April down on his lap. The girl immediately reached for the silver wrapping with a delighted noise that made everyone laugh. He let her help unwrap his presents until she got bored with tearing up sparkling paper and got interested in banging her plastic toy against the table’s edge instead. He only gave it ten more minutes before she started tossing things around, expecting them to fetch them for her – Snowball was _great_ at that game and he decided he would let the puppy back in from the backyard if it came down to that.

He got two rare old volumes from the Trinkets – or more likely Tadius – a portrait of him with April and Effie from Peeta, a pretty shell as big as his fist from Finn – who had _hunted_ it _himself,_ he was told – that would do a nice paperweight, a new hunting knife from Johanna who just shrugged and insisted it was never bad to be prepared, a chime made of small delicate shells from Annie and a very expensive looking new chessboard from Katniss. And by expensive, he meant _expensive_. The pieces were finely crafted out of obsidian and ivory and it was beautiful.

At his interrogative glance, the girl simply shrugged.

He figured that was her way of apologizing for going ahead with the book thing without asking him first. There was still some tension between them about that but they were both too stubborn to change their minds. She felt she needed to do it to give all those dead people justice and he still felt people would buy it out of voyeurism rather than genuine compassion.

“This is from April.” Effie declared, placing a small perfectly wrapped package in front of him. She had been waltzing around almost as soon as he had hinted she should sit down. She had been doing that all day, snapping picture after picture, still dedicated to recording _everything_. They would need new shelves for photo albums soon at the pace she was going.

“Yeah?” he teased. “Didn’t realize she was so good at wrapping things…”

The shrimp, by now, was trying hard to snatch a piece of his brand new chessboard set and he handed her over to Peeta who delighted in distracting her by waving her rattle around.

He made a quick job of unwrapping the present, trying not to mind the flashes of the camera. It was an oval mold of a very tiny hand and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, this is very cute…” Annie beamed.

Nobody could deny that. He looked up at Effie with a small smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.” She waved that away and fetched a bigger box from the pantry. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise but opened it quickly. A folded winter coat greeted him inside. Brand new, grey and warm. _That_ must have been what she had been working on in secret in the study. “Thanks.” he said again.

She grinned at him and leaned down, wrapping her free arm around his neck and stretching her other arm so she could snatch a picture of the two of them.

“Your other gift will wait in our bedroom tonight.” she murmured in his ear. “For your eyes only.”

That meant kinky lingerie, he figured. _Nice_.

She giggled when he pulled her on his lap. He resolutely ignored the protests and the statements that _really they were too old to behave like that_ and he kissed her, maybe a bit too deeply since they were in public but that day he didn’t really care. She bumped her nose against his cheek, nuzzled his ear a little…

They were all eating their cake now, talking and laughing, not paying them much attention… Haymitch chanced it and placed his hand on her bump, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb. She was already finishing the third month.

It was odd how time had seemed to trickle by so slowly for most of his life and now it seemed to go twice as quickly to catch up. Or maybe it was the difference between decaying away in an empty house and being surrounded by family.

Her hand covered his, pressed a little harder against her stomach. He could tell she was feeling the baby moving – or the fluttering of it – just by the secret softness of her smile.

He leaned in to kiss her again, _really_ not caring what everyone thought about it. It was just a peck, a long tender peck that ended up with her ducking her head a little and biting her bottom lip.

“Shall we?” she asked.

He didn’t need her to clarify. They had been _really_ good at hiding it so far. She had hidden her stomach under loose clothes or beneath her coat when they went out. Visits at the clinic could be justified by check-ups on his own health or April’s or even hers. It was the good thing with having such a young child, nobody expected you to do it again so soon. For now, not a rumor had surfaced in the District and they would rather keep it that way. It wouldn’t last, of course. The press would get wind of it eventually. But for now the jellyfish was still _theirs_ only and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But he also wanted to share the news with their family.

He was almost _bursting_ with how happy about it he was.

Sure, he still had doubts about the whole thing, about how they would manage with two young children – if they could manage _at all_ … And it was nothing to worrying about what they would do when they would be older. Loving the babies, taking care of them… It wasn’t the difficult thing. Even raising them… Between the two of them, he believed they would succeed in not butchering that up… But once they would be old enough to ask questions… That would be the real kicker, he figured. How to explain…

Panem was already so different from what it had been three years ago.

By the time their children would be old enough to understand, there would be a generation gap.

“Now?” he asked, just to be sure. He wasn’t the one who had wanted to keep it _hush-hush_ after all. She had wanted it on her terms this time around and, since it wasn’t a luxury she had been able to afford herself with April, he wanted to give it to her.

“It is time, I think.” she hummed, entwining their fingers over her stomach.

The end of the first trimester meant she was far less likely to have a miscarriage. And they couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Not when her bump was making her dress look slightly round at the waist.

“Alright.” he smirked.

“Alright.” she grinned. She hopped off his lap and cleared her throat. It was only when Haymitch stood up too that the others stopped talking and eating to look at them curiously. Or, in Johanna’s case, more scowling than curious. Effie clapped her hands together once in hardly suppressed glee. “First of all, we would like to thank you all for coming today.”

“The trip down the street _was_ a hardship.” Peeta joked, a little distracted by April who was very busy trying to steal some of the cake from his plate.

Effie briefly pursed her lips at the interruption but continued as if it hadn’t happened. Her hand slid into his and Haymitch squeezed her fingers.

“We have some news!” she exclaimed.

“Oh! Us too.” Katniss commented, placing her glass of water down to look at Peeta who was beaming at her, a little surprised and a little awed.

“Now?” the boy asked.

Katniss shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

Haymitch had a good idea of what was coming and he winced a little. “Can your news wait until later? ‘Cause it’s kind of _Effie’_ s moment right now.”   

“Haymitch, how rude!” Effie hissed, whacking his arm with her free hand but still looking a little miffed. “Please, go ahead, Katniss. My news can wait a little longer.”

“But not nine months longer I bet.” Johanna muttered, low enough that only Haymitch and Effie heard. And Annie but Annie wasn’t really paying attention.

It was Peeta who spoke though, not Katniss, completely ignoring April who took advantage of it to splash her hand in the half eaten piece of cake and bring some to her mouth. It was mostly chocolate and it was melted so Haymitch let it go. Effie made a face at the dress getting a nice chocolate handprint but that was life with a baby.

“Well… Katniss and I…” Peeta announced slowly, smiling fondly at his girlfriend. “Let’s say we talked a lot and…” There was no stopping the beaming then. The boy beamed so much he might as well have powered the whole District in electricity for the year. “She asked me to marry her and I said yes.”

There were cries of excitement – well, Effie cried in excitement and Annie exclaimed – he and Johanna mostly remained there, unsurprised but pleased for their friends. Congratulations were passed around, hugs were given and, all the while, Effie kept a running commentary of what they would need to do, all the planning that needed to be made…

“We are not getting married _now_.” Katniss cut in with wide fearful eyes at the strength of their former escort’s enthusiasm. Effie’s eyes were very bright and she kept going from Peeta to Katniss to hug them in turn. “For _now_ we’re _engaged_. In a couple of years we will get married.”

Effie blinked but took that in stride. “All the better for a very well planned wedding! And April will be old enough to be a flower girl by then!”

“The best we can hope for her in life.” Haymitch deadpanned, warranting himself another whack on the arm.

“Oh, _hush_ , will you, you horrid man!” she scolded him. “My babies are getting married.”

“Your _babies_ are _twenty_.” he pointed out, rolling his eyes.

“What does it matter?” she retorted and then dashed around the table to hug Peeta again. “I am so happy! _So happy_!”

Peeta laughed and hugged back for what appeared to be the hundredth time. “You will stand with me, Effie, right?”

Haymitch quickly stepped closer, outstretching his hands just because she seemed suddenly thunderstruck. He only had time to wince before Effie was crying. Well… Crying was better than fainting, he figured.

“It would be my honor! My absolute honor!” she exclaimed with such theatrics that Haymitch shook his head. The kids both looked a little taken aback by the strength of her reaction. She was always over the top but this was a little too much.

“You’re going to start bawling too if I ask you to give me away?” Katniss frowned at him suspiciously.

“Nah.” he joked. “Always happy to _give_ you _away_.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Nice, Haymitch.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” he replied.

Meanwhile, Annie was trying and failing to comfort Effie who kept waving a dismissing hand and swearing she was alright even if she kept sobbing hard. Johanna had ended up with April on her lap and Finn clinging to her arm, the boy clearly a bit afraid of the scene she was making, not used to seeing her that emotional.

“Alright.” he loudly declared, taking hold of Effie’s shoulders and guiding her to a chair so she would sit down. “Hope someone got a good picture of _that_.”

She was a sight with her running make-up and Johanna’s snickers told him the camera hadn’t been lost for everyone during the last ten minutes.

Effie glared at him. “You are _so_ awful sometimes.” 

“Only sometimes?” he smirked, taking the chair Katniss had vacated. The girl simply took his own seat without comment.

“You _know_ I cannot help it.” she snapped. She hiccupped twice but the tears finally stopped because now she was getting angry at him. He lifted an eyebrow and smirked. Hormones sucked. But he had found ways around them. Except, given the way she was now glaring at him, that was dangerous. Making her furious just so she would stop crying was _not_ a fun game. “You are _insufferable_.”

“Like _you_ ’re a piece of cake.” he snorted. “Speaking of…” He slid her untouched plate closer to her. “Maybe you should eat some.”

Chocolate went a long way into easing this sort of moods.

Except apparently _not_.

“I cannot eat this, there is _coffee_ in it.” she hissed.

“Then why did you ask the kid for that one?” he sighed.

“Because it is your favorite!” she snapped, raising her voice loud enough that April started crying. She softened immediately and turned toward her daughter, snatching her away from Johanna and cuddling her close. “No, no, no… Mama is not angry, my darling… I am so sorry… I should not have shouted. Your papa was just being an _idiot_. Mama is not angry…”

In a practiced move, Haymitch spotted the rattle on the table, grabbed it and started waving it close to the shrimp’s head. It wasn’t long before the baby forgot to cry to try and catch the toy.

Haymitch sighed in relief while Effie peppered the child’s cheek with kisses.

It was only then that he realized the kitchen was _deadly_ silent.

Everyone was staring at them as if they had grown a second head.

“What?” he scowled defensively.

Granted, they might have been acting a bit _odd_ but…

“Alright, what’s going on?” Katniss asked, crossing her arms over her chest when nobody else dared. “The two of you have been weird for _weeks_. And _you_ …” The girl pointed a finger in Effie’s direction. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I do not know what you mean.” Effie lied, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin to catch the smudged make-up.

“Yesterday you cried because I broke an egg.” Peeta winced.

“I hate eggs.” she simply declared as if it made sense.

“The day before that you started sobbing at a cartoon on TV.” Katniss insisted. “A cartoon _for April_.”

“It was _terribly_ sad.” she dismissed. “That cat almost ate the mouse. Absolutely _not_ child-friendly if you want my opinion.”

“The cat never catches the mouse.” Annie offered. “It’s the running joke. They are kind of friends actually.”

Effie barely blinked, pretending to focus on wiping April’s hand a little more thoroughly than Johanna had done. There were a few spots of chocolate near her shoulder but Haymitch wasn’t going to point that out. He was pretty sure the dress was new and he didn’t want to upset her again.

“Well, I did not know that, did I?” she hummed. “Would someone care for more cake? No? Coffee?”

Johanna was almost dying of hilarity in her corner of the table. “Just spit it out, Trinket.”

She pursed her lips, gave Jo a brief glance and then wrinkled her nose. “This is Haymitch’s birthday and the children already stole his thunder with their news so…”

“I thought you were happy about it?” Katniss interrupted, a bit annoyed.

Peeta was more understanding. “I’m sorry, Effie… I know you went to a lot of troubles for today… We shouldn’t have…”

“No, no!” she denied, suddenly sounding horrified at her own behavior. “ _Oh_! I am so sorry… I _am_ happy for you. I do not know what got into me. I am not quite myself today.”

Haymitch sighed, covering her hand on the table. “Just tell them, sweetheart.”

“No.” she frowned. “It is the children’s moment now and…”

“They won’t mind.” he promised, glaring at Katniss. “ _Right_?”

After all, he had tried to tell them to wait.

“Of course, we don’t mind.” Peeta offered.

“Yeah.” Katniss nodded. “Just tell us what _the fuck_ is going on.”

“Not in front of the children!” Effie and Annie rebuked at the exact same time.

Finn looked up at that but it was clear he hadn’t heard much because he had been busy finishing Johanna’s share of cake.

Effie cleared her throat, nervously playing with her wedding band. “If you are _certain_ you would not mind…”

“There are never enough good news.” Peeta smiled and then frowned a little. “It _is_ good news, right? Because you haven’t looked that well lately and…”

Johanna rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, almost certainly to blurt the secret out.

“We are pregnant.” Effie declared before she could.

Haymitch wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he expected but it certainly wasn’t the grand deafening silence he got.

“You’re gonna have one every year or what?” Johanna taunted after a few seconds. “Must been at it like rabbits to…”

“Jo.” Annie said firmly and, miracle of all miracles, Seven’s victor fell silent. “Congratulations! I am so happy for you, Effie…”

That seemed to jerk the kids out of whatever spell they were under.

Effie stood up once more to receive hugs from Annie and Peeta. Katniss was more cautious when she approached him.

“Good or bad?” the girl asked uncertainly, watching him a bit warily.

A few years ago, he would have answered _bad_ without a single moment of hesitation.

“Good.” he smirked. “Very good.”

Katniss relaxed and smiled, hugging him tight. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

He accepted Peeta’s congratulations and sheepish apology about having stolen Effie’s thunder but let her handle the numerous questions their friends had for them. How far along was she? Did they know if it was a boy or a girl yet? How long had they known?

“I didn’t know you were trying…” Peeta commented at some point before flushing red at the implications. “I mean…”

“We… were not.” Effie admitted, flashing Haymitch an embarrassed look. “But we are happy all the same.”

“Careful, Haymitch…” Johanna teased. “They say good things come in three…”

“Isn’t that bad things?” Katniss frowned.

“Matter of perspective.” Jo shrugged.

“Do you already have name ideas?” Annie asked, bringing the conversation back on safer grounds.

It felt like hours to Haymitch before they were allowed to leave the table. Katniss and Jo immediately set off for a walk in the woods, Annie brought Finn back to the children’s house so he could take a nap and Haymitch seized the occasion to challenge Peeta to a game of chess while they had some peace and quiet.

As much peace and quiet as they could get with Effie insisting on clearing out the table and doing the dishes – something she was prevented to do both by him and Peeta. They took care of cleaning the kitchen while she put April down for her own nap.

They had finally settled in the living-room with the new chessboard and were admiring the pieces when she came back down and announced she was going to call her mother.

“Good luck.” he snorted.

She pursed her lips and huffed but still patted her hair in self-consciousness before striding into the kitchen like others would have marched on a battlefield.

He focused on the game but kept an ear pricked for whatever she was saying in the other room. She was silent a lot, which he figured to mean Elindra had a lot of news to impart, and it was almost fifteen minutes before he heard her clear her throat.

“Mother, I have some important news I wanted to share…” she declared. He let himself get distracted and that cost him a pawn. “No, it is not about my business. I… Yes, things are going well enough on that front. Only a couple of customers so far but the word is going around. No… Of course not. No… Yes… Mother…” He captured Peeta’s knight with a smirk. “ _Mother_. My news? Yes. Yes, we received the card and the books. Haymitch was _over the moon_. I… No, I was not calling to thank you actually. I am sure he will get in touch with Father and do that himself. Yes, it went well. The cake was delicious, yes. No, my guests are not still there. Do you really think I would leave my guests to fend for themselves while I make calls? What kind of a hostess do you think I am?” A longer pause and Peeta walked straight into his trap. The boy _never_ learned.  “I apologize, Mother, I did not mean to snap.” she hissed through gritted teeth. “It is just I am _trying_ to tell you _something important_.” Haymitch rolled his eyes at Elindra’s antics. Couldn’t she just listen for two seconds? Apparently not because it was another ten minutes of “Yes” and “No” before Effie cleared her throat again. “Yes, my news. Well… Mother… You are going to be a grandmother again!” It was silent for a moment and then Effie laughed in joy. “Yes, I am pregnant. Yes. Yes. No, not yet. Three months. Yes, we _are_ really happy.”

“Checkmate.” Peeta said smugly.

Haymitch had to do a double take and narrowed his eyes at the kid. “Doesn’t count. I was distracted.”

“Still counts.” the boy shrugged. “Another one?”

He set the pieces again, grumbling under his breath, but he got distracted again halfway through when Effie walked back in the living-room and sat on the couch with a sigh, propping her legs up.

“Being pregnant is exhausting.” she informed them and then grinned. “Mother was enthusiastic! She is going to send up paint samples for April’s new room.”

“More painting.” he muttered. “Great.”

“For your daughter, Haymitch.” she reminded him. “You want your daughter to have a pretty room, don’t you?”

When she put it like that…

He wanted his daughter to have _everything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How awesome a birthday was that? Let me know your thoughts!


	54. 7 Months & 17 Weeks

Effie angrily pushed the remote’s button, switching channels before she could get too upset. She didn’t often watch the news, that was more Haymitch’s thing, but she had gotten stuck in front of a supposedly _neutral_ documentary about a group of Capitols who wanted to bring awareness to the fact District people hadn’t been the only ones to get hurt during the war. The leader of that group, she suspected, was the one her Mother had gone to listen to.

The journalists had been patronizing and even mocking with him when not outright disbelieving.

Effie sighed and turned to the playpen to make sure April was alright. Her daughter didn’t seem in anyway disturbed by the TV, she was happily hitting the colorful buttons of a toy Peeta had bought her in town two days earlier. Every time she managed to push one, a little plastic animal popped out. She was trying to get them loose but failed every time and it frustrated her to no end until she forgot and pushed another button.

She watched April, more interested by the way her daughter finally gave up on the toy to roll on her back and then on her stomach and slowly crawled to where her toys where, sometimes letting out joyful little chirps. She grabbed her stuffed elephant – or _tried_ to because it was slightly too big for her little hands and she often dropped it – and amused herself by picking it up a few times before she suddenly moved her head in a telltale way.

“Mama is right here, sweetie.” Effie hummed, settling on a fashion channel and turning the sound off. She carefully sat up, placing a hand on her stomach before swinging her legs off the couch. She was having small cramps that day and she didn’t like the tearing sensation in her lower stomach. It would go away, she was confident, but she didn’t like it. “Do you want Mama to play with you?”

She plucked her from the playpen along with the stuffed elephant and a handful of colorful toys and settled them back on the couch. She didn’t really feel up to rolling around on the floor at the moment.

Four months done and five to go, she told herself, her mind going back to everything she needed to do. She hadn’t gone as far as writing down a schedule but she had certainly made it clear to Haymitch that she wanted to have the nursery and April’s room sorted earlier than they had last time. She remembered how exhausted she had been at the end and she really didn’t want to have to worry about a thing past her sixth month.

She was distractedly waving the elephant in the air for her daughter to catch when she felt the baby kick. It was getting stronger but not enough for anyone else to feel it yet. Still, she smiled and gently petted her stomach with her free hand.

“It will be amazing, the four of us, darling…” she promised her daughter. “It will be _so, so_ good, you will see…” She let her imagination wander and the picture was so clear in her mind… With April in front of her, it wasn’t hard to imagine another child who would look like her. Girl or boy didn’t make a difference to her although she had a strong inkling this one would be a boy. She just… She _felt_ it. Only hours to wait before they would know anyway… She picked up April and sat her on her lap, peppering her stomach and cheeks with kisses to make her laugh. She felt a little guilty about being more… _relaxed_ into this pregnancy than she had been for hers. “Mama loves you. Mama loves you _so_ _much_.”

Her eyes darted to the clock eventually but there was still _plenty_ of time before the appointment at the clinic. She was nervous and excited and couldn’t wait for the morning to end so it was _finally_ time. She had been a ball of nerves for two days and Haymitch had delighted in mocking her.

The sudden commotion outside distracted her from April but before she had time to do little more than stand up, her daughter protectively held close in her arms, she heard the front door opening, Haymitch’s raised voice ordering someone to _let go_ and… A flash of white dashed in the living-room, straight to her, growling a little… Haymitch came running after the dog, still snapping at Snowball to _let go…_

Effie was confused until she spotted the dead rabbit dangling from the dog’s jaws.

She shrieked and jumped on the couch, forgetting all about pregnancy or the baby in her arms or even the fact that Snowball was certainly no mice and had no problem with couch jumping. The dog hopped on the grey couch, lifting on his hinder legs to receive the usual post stroll cuddle. The dead rabbit was _far too close_ and in an attempt at _not_ getting in contact with it – or _worse_ letting _April_ get in contact with it – Effie stepped back and almost fell over. It was lucky one side of the L-shaped couch was pushed against the window because her back hit the glass instead of her simply tipping over.

Haymitch had finally managed to get a hold on the dog by that point and he started wrestling the dead thing from his mouth.

“Drop this _now_.” he warned in a low serious voice. Snowball growled a little, stubbornly staring back. “I’m so _not_ in the mood for this. Drop. It. _Now_.” How long had this been going on? The dog let out another annoyed growl and got a small warning whack on the nose for his trouble. “Drop it.”

“Snowball, drop this disgusting thing now or _I swear_.” she snapped.

The dog looked at her, whined and – _miracle of all miracles –_ dropped the dead rabbit.

On the couch.

Effie climbed down and moved to the other end of the room, next to the bookshelves, hiding behind one of the armchairs.

“Good boy.” Haymitch acknowledged, pointing at the dog’s bed. “Now _down_. We _said_ we would _never_ bring dead things to Effie, remember? That trick was supposed to be for Katniss only.”

Effie pursed her lips, really not pleased. “Have you been training my puppy to hunt, Haymitch?”

“Haven’t been training him to do _shit_ , Princess.” he scoffed. “He’s a dog. He sees rabbits and squirrels dashing past him in the woods, he chases them. Sometimes he catches them. I give them to the girl before you can freak.”

“So _why_ is there a dead rabbit on my couch?” she hissed, cradling the back of April’s head in her hand. Their daughter hadn’t exactly liked all the commotion. She wasn’t crying but she didn’t look happy either.

“Got distracted.” he grumbled, clearly irritated.

He plucked a rolled-up newspaper from the pocket of his coat and tossed it on the armchair she was hiding behind before disposing of the rabbit. She _dearly_ hoped he also intended to _disinfect_ the couch. Ideally she would have burned it and replaced it but couches were hard to come by in Twelve.

She waited until the dead thing was gone – and if there was rabbit stew tonight she would _gladly_ not think about how it ended up on her plate – before reaching for the newspaper. It was Twelve’s local one.

_‘Another Abernathy Baby On The Way?_ ’ screamed the headline.

She let out a small unsurprised sigh, skimming through the accompanying article. It was compiling rumors, some sightings of her with an open coat, mainly at the Clarkes’ coffee shop, and their frequent visits to the clinic.

“Have you noticed how slower our private news hit the press when Plutarch isn’t made aware?” she asked when Haymitch came back, lacking his coat and scarf, sleeves rolled up – hopefully because he had just washed his hands. Perhaps it was a bit unfair of her to think so because the former Head Gamemaker was always happy to help when they asked for a favor but she couldn’t help but think the man put his interests first and theirs later. “We lasted four months. We knew we would not be able to hide it forever.”

“I know.” he granted, running a hand through his hair. “Just… Today’s supposed to be happy. Wasn’t exactly ready for Sae to corner me at the Hob and ask me if it was true.”

Effie made a sympathetic face, knowing how much he hated feeling trapped like that. She handed April over when he outstretched his arms and went straight to the kitchen, wondering how best to clean the couch. Haymitch followed her, making their daughter bounce a little, his annoyance softening at her delighted sounds.

“If it is in Twelve’s newspaper today, it will be public knowledge by the end of the day.” she pointed out, crouching in front of the cupboard under the sink with some difficulties.

“Don’t do that.” he grumbled, trying to haul her up with his free hand. “Here, take the baby and tell me what you want…” She waved him off. She was already there anyway. She grabbed a few products and gripped the edge of the counter to stand up, immediately placing a hand on her stomach when she was back on her feet. This baby didn’t like exercise much, she had noticed. Haymitch was studying her with rapt attention. “Shouldn’t overdo it.”

“I am not overdoing it.” she protested. “I spent the whole morning lounging on the couch.”

If it had been left to her she would have been doing _things_ while April was busy playing with her toys. The laundry for instance, that she had put on the backburner for days and that was now threatening to become unmanageable. But her body warned her she needed rest and so she rested.

Haymitch didn’t really look happy but she suspected he wouldn’t be happy with much that day. He hated it when their private life was dragged on print for everyone to read, it was the reason he had been so angry about Katniss publishing those remembrance books to begin with. She wasn’t any more thrilled about it but she had grown up expecting it so… It was sad how used to it she was.

“I’m surprised Plutarch didn’t call yet.” he grumbled, distractedly poking the cartoonish dancing bear on April’s soft woolen sweater.

“Oh, I am sure he will call tomorrow to congratulate us once everyone in Panem knows and apologize he wasn’t able to sit on the news any longer.” she snorted. “We should confirm it and then refuse to comment further. It will be a week or so before they move on. Us getting married and having babies is old news now.”

She winked at him, eyes sparkling in mischief.

“Yeah… Probably boring to them.” he smirked, leaning in to steal a kiss when she walked past him to the living-room.

She pecked his lips willingly enough. “I wouldn’t exchange our boring life for anything else.”

“Got enough excitement back in the days.” he sighed and dropped on the couch, far from the place contaminated with dead rabbit germs. Snowball lifted his head when she walked past him but she ignored the dog, not keen on rewarding the kind of behavior that involved him bringing her dead animals. “Still think it’s a boy?”

There was a small hint of teasing in his voice and she grinned before starting to disinfect the couch, not even taking offense. “I am ninety-nine percent certain it is a boy. I told you. I have this _feeling_.”

“How come you had no _feeling_ whatsoever for April?” he snorted. “’Cause that would have been helpful.”

She paused in her scrubbing to purse her lips, avoiding his gaze. “I was too afraid to lose her.” That put an end to his teasing quickly but she hadn’t really meant to damper the mood so she forced herself to smile and add a cheer to her voice. “We should probably start discussing names, you know.”

“Good thing is… If it’s a boy, we’re covered.” he answered, wrapping his arms protectively around April when she curled up against his chest. “If it’s a girl we’re back to name hunting…”

“You still want Aidan for a boy?” she asked, her gaze darting to the baby falling asleep against him. “It was meant for her originally… I wouldn’t want her to find out one day and think we replaced her with her sibling because…”

“Sweetheart… We ain’t about to toss the shrimp to the streets.” he said gently but with that hint of amusement that told her he thought she was being ridiculous. “We like the name… If it’s a boy, I don’t see the harm. It’s not like we want a boy so bad _just_ to call him Aidan. _Besides,_ we’ve still got a ton of stuff in the attic you said was too _boyish_ and half of it is branded with that name so…”

She straightened up, giving up on the cleaning, and placed her hands on her hips, lips pursed. “It should not be about it being _convenient_.”

He rolled his eyes, automatically lowering his voice when he realized April had fallen asleep. “Do you like _Aidan_?”

“Well… Yes.” she admitted.

“Do you like another name better for a boy?” he insisted knowingly. “For our _son_?”

She mulled that over for a few seconds and then surrendered. “No.” A grin stretched her lips and she sat down, snatching the stuffed elephant and hugging it close to her chest before she could help herself. “ _Our son_.”

“Wait for the ultrasound.” he chuckled with unabashed amusement. “What if it’s another girl? You want a boy that bad?”

“I do not _want_ a boy, I _know_ this baby is a boy.” she argued, hugging the elephant tighter. “And if I am mistaken… _Obviously_ I would not mind as long as she is healthy.” She ducked her head a little to hide her smile because it was so manic it was starting to hurt. “I still cannot believe we are having another one sometimes. I am… Oh, I am _so_ happy, Haymitch…”

She might not have been over the moon at first but now…

“I’m happy too, sweetheart.” he confessed, tenderly combing April’s hair with his fingers. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

Effie climbed on the couch and curled up into his side, resting one hand on her stomach and the other on their daughter. “If it is another girl, we will find her a pretty name… Just like her sister.” That word made her grin again. _Sister_. “They will have a great relationship, won’t they? We won’t make any difference between them. I want them to be close. Not like Lyssa and I.”

“I was close with my brother.” Haymitch offered after a short silence. “He… He was a pain most days but… Yeah… We were close.” He cleared his throat. “Whatever Larcher tells us it is, we should plan for another name just in case it’s another surprise.”

“I agree.” she hummed quietly. Snowball uncertainly padded over, silently placing his head on Haymitch’s knee, his dark eyes all pleading. Effie sighed. “Yes, you are still my pretty baby. _Even_ if you are also a _disgusting_ one.”

The dog barked joyfully and jumped on the couch with them, eager to get his cuddle from Effie – and yet always somehow careful not to hit her in the stomach, it was uncanny how he seemed to _know_. She struggled to keep his head away from her face, not keen on being licked by a tongue that had been in contact with dead game.

Lunch was a quiet affair, mostly because Effie was so excited for the upcoming appointment that she could barely focus on anything else. She fed April her mashed carrots and tried not to get any on herself – a feat when her daughter had decided she didn’t like something – grumbling at the way Haymitch laughed at her. It was annoying to her that he had seemed so much more adept at feeding her from the start. Feeding her child was supposed to be her job.

Except she wasn’t able to feed herself properly most days so… If it had been left to her, she would have survived on take-away, crackers and fruits. Instead, she ate the roast leftovers from the previous night and it was still just as good as she remembered. Haymitch muttered that she was being stupid when she mentioned it – because somehow his ability to cook seemed to be a point of embarrassment instead of pride.

She had just put April down for her nap when Katniss showed up, nose and cheeks red from the cold, the woolen hat Effie had knitted for her pulled low on her head to cover her ears.

“Wrap up.” the girl advised her. “It’s freezing.”

“Smells like snow outside.” Haymitch confirmed, glancing through the window.

The joy of winter in Twelve, Effie thought but didn’t voice, while Katniss and Haymitch started a debate about _smelling_ versus _feeling_ snow. She was fidgeting so much that Haymitch eventually rolled his eyes and stood up, suggesting they went ahead even if they were half an hour early before she could burst from excitement.

She glared at him but jumped on the offer, taking five minutes to shoot out a list of recommendations Katniss didn’t really need by now. The girl might not be fond of babies but she had learned to babysit well enough.

And in any case, they should be back before April woke up from her nap. It wouldn’t take that long.

At Haymitch’s insistence, she made sure her green coat was buttoned all the way up. She let him adjust her pink scarf and hat while she pulled on her gloves, refusing to comment on the quirk of his mouth that meant he was finding the color mix ridiculous. Bundled up as warmly as she was going to get, they set off for the clinic.

The weather was bad and there weren’t many people out but the few they saw left no doubt as to how popular that rumor about her pregnancy had become. A few of them greeted them with a  nod or a word, others just stared rudely as they were in a habit to do in her presence… When Haymitch was at her side, she didn’t have to worry about insults or anything getting out of hand, he was too impressive for anyone to try it. But still… It felt to her as if _everyone_ looked at her stomach at least once.

They must have been disappointed because the coat hid everything.

“Can we make a quick stop at the coffee shop on our way back?” Effie hummed. “I promised Eileen I would tell her how it went right away and I wouldn’t mind one of those hot chocolate with whipped cream she makes.”

“Sure.” he shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind one of those pumpkin drinks myself.”

“It’s a date, then.” she purred.

He smirked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t the most practical to walk with her stomach starting to get in the way but she melted into his side anyway.

The moment they stepped into the clinic’s waiting area, every pair of eyes in the place turned to them. It seemed to be a slow day, fortunately. A couple of elderly people, a woman and a man who all stared at them with curiosity and, in some cases, reprobation. She was strongly reminded of Clay but Haymitch led her to a seat before her hands could truly start shaking, mumbling at her to sit down while he checked with the nurse at the front desk. Nobody called her out and nobody made a scene. When she accidentally met the old man’s gaze, he nodded once. It was a little stiff but it was also polite so she smiled in answer and quickly averted her eyes.

She took off her hat and patted her hair, not deluded enough to think it still looked presentable with all the humidity in the air and a trip under a hat. Surely enough, the blond curls seemed out of control under her palm. She tousled them a little, hoping it didn’t look as wild as it felt.

Haymitch’s gaze when he walked back to her said it all though. His grey eyes had darkened a little with a familiar hunger that told her the curls were completely out of control. It drove him mad with lust when it looked like that.

“Won’t be long.” he said.

She drummed her fingers on her thigh nervously until he covered her hand with his. She turned it so their palms could slid together and she entwined their fingers. After they had stopped at the Clarkes’, maybe they could stop at the toy store. She wanted to buy something for their jellyfish. Her mother had sent things as soon as she had told her naturally, for the new baby as well as for April, and the children had bought a darling little romper… But she and Haymitch had yet to buy anything specifically for the new baby. A stuffed toy, she decided. She would buy him a stuffed toy. A white bear, maybe. A very soft one…

“We should paint the nursery blue.” she hummed, her mind jumping to the white bear she wanted to buy to decoration matters. “We could keep Peeta’s drawing and paint underneath and over it.”

“So, April’s room’s gonna be pink and the baby’s room’s gonna be blue?” he snorted. “What happened to gender neutral colors?”

She pursed her lips. “I got bored with yellow. And it does not suit me at all. I look ill in a yellow room.”

“The kitchen’s yellow.” he pointed out.

Unwisely, in her opinion.             

“I will take that into consideration when we go buy paint.” she declared.

He rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s a girl.”

“It’s not.” she protested, shaking her head.

He was mostly arguing to tease her, she figured. He was annoying like that.

The nurse had barely finished calling _Mrs Abernathy_ when she shot out of her chair. The woman chuckled at her impatience as she settled them in the examination room but Effie didn’t mind. She didn’t even mind the white walls or the distinctive smell of disinfectant.

She barely even answered Doctor Larcher’s greetings properly when he entered the room, her eyes glued to the ultrasound machine. Haymitch was clearly _dying_ to mock her but was good enough to keep himself in check. Besides, he looked a little impatient too.

Small talk was quickly put out of the way when the doctor instructed her to lift her sweater and unbutton her pants so he could have access to her stomach. She flinched a little because the gel was cold and Haymitch grabbed her hand, maybe mistaking that for a sign of an incoming panic attack.

She was doing well though.

She just wanted to see her baby.

“Did you notice anything unusual or is there anything you would like to ask me?” Larcher asked distractedly, as he tinkered with the machine to turn it on.  

“Not really, no.” she dismissed. “I finally stopped feeling sick in the afternoon and I do not get any dizzying spell anymore.”

“That’s very good.” the doctor smiled.

“Hormones are up the roof.” Haymitch muttered and shrugged innocently when she glared at him.

“That’s to be expected.” Larcher chuckled. “Now… Let’s see if we can tell what we will be having…” He shot them a guilty look. “ _Accurately_ this time.”

 “Yeah, _that_ would be great.” he deadpanned.

She squeezed his hand to warn him not to spoil the moment. It took almost a whole minute for Larcher to find the right spot and the doctor was frowning by the time he located the baby. Effie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him appear on the screen, not paying attention to anything but to the tiny baby moving in her belly.

“Here you are…” she whispered. “Look, Haymitch…”

“I see.” he smirked, just as enthralled by the sight as she was. Larcher pushed a button and the sound of a strong and steady heartbeat filled the room, bringing tears to her eyes. Haymitch’s smirk grew wider until it blossomed into a real smile. “So? Can you tell if it’s a boy? ‘Cause we’ve got a bet going…”

Larcher took a while to answer, moving the probe lower on her stomach, then to the right and the left.

Effie finally noticed the frown.

At the same time Haymitch did.

“What’s wrong?” they asked as one.

“Is it the baby?” she worried, a lump in her throat. “Is something wrong?”

“The baby is fine.” Larcher said in a firm reassuring voice. “The heartbeat is strong and he’s growing well. A bit small but April was small too so that isn’t worrying.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Haymitch insisted, squeezing her fingers so hard it hurt. She almost didn’t notice.

The doctor hesitated, moving the probe again until the baby was front and center. “Did you lose blood at all, Effie? Even a few drops?”

“No.” she denied at once, barely comforted by the thought her baby was fine. _Something_ was wrong, it was plain to see and it might affect her child. It might… “I would have called you.”

She had lost blood with April, at the beginning, but not this time… The worst she had had this time was a few cramps that weren’t even so terrible… And she had had them with April too so, surely, there were no reasons to worry? Upset stomachs were to be expected. It was in every pregnancy book.   

“Alright.” the doctor said calmly. “First thing first… The baby is doing well. I don’t want you to worry.” They exchanged a look and they didn’t even bother to pretend _not_ to be worried for the other’s sake. Larcher cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him. “It _is_ a boy. No false positive this time, look… Here are the fingers and toes… And here is the penis… No tiny hands in wrong places.”

He pointed out everything in turn and Effie relaxed a little despite everything.

“Our son.” she breathed out, smiling up at Haymitch.

Haymitch wasn’t smiling though. He was barely looking at the screen. His attention was on the doctor.

“If it’s not the baby, then it’s Effie.” he said, his voice clipped with anxiety. “Tell me what’s wrong. _Now_.”

Larcher slowly placed the probe back on its cradle. “There’s no need to panic, Haymitch. Effie, I will have a nurse settle you in a private room. We will run some tests and I will examine you, alright? Haymitch, maybe you should go get a coffee while we…”

“No.” she protested, coiling her free hand around his wrist, clinging to his fingers. She looked up at him, eyes wide and frightened, making an effort to keep her breathing under control. “Don’t leave me.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, it would take an army to keep me away.” he spat, covering her other hand with his free one. He was glaring at the doctor now and maybe it was unfair because it wasn’t Larcher’s fault but she couldn’t even begin to tell him off. It was… “What’s wrong with her?”

“Please, try to remain calm.” the doctor requested. “We won’t know for sure until…

“ _What is wrong with me?”_ she snapped, raising her voice loud enough to be heard in the hallway probably. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “My apologies. I…”

“The placenta is very low.” Larcher cut her off, dismissing her apologies with a wave of his hand. He didn’t look offended, just worried. “It might be nothing, it might be something. We need to make sure for your safety and the baby’s.”

“Is that really bad?” Haymitch asked, nervously licking his lips.

The doctor’s face said it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we might be having a little mini touch of angst... Oops? Let me know your thoughts!


	55. 7 Months & 17 Weeks (2)

Sitting next to your wife while she was butt naked and a doctor examined her wasn’t the most comfortable experience in the world. Haymitch was trying to figure out if it was the most embarrassing situation he had been in or not – did it or didn’t it beat having to help Katniss bathe after she had been released from the hospital post-Coin’s execution? It certainly beat being forced to let Peeta give him a sponge bath after a particularly bad binge. Weighting out embarrassing experiences was the best thing he could do to take his mind off things and it wasn’t exactly working.

Larcher had talked about a special ultrasound machine called _transvaginal something_ and he had been peering at the screen that was turned away from them and becoming grimmer with every passing second. At least it wasn’t a pelvic exam, Haymitch figured, even if that probe was in a place that he didn’t like other men to see or touch. But Larcher was a doctor and Haymitch needed to support Effie so…

Effie’s head was turned away from him. She was staring at the wall but he wasn’t sure she was aware of her surroundings. She had withdrawn inside her mind as soon as the nurse had settled them in the private room and the round of exams had started. Even her fingers had grown limp in his.

Haymitch had a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow. The baby was alright. He clung to that tiny bit of information. It was already something positive. Maybe the rest wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe… The placenta was low, so what? What did that even _mean_? He tried to remember what he had read about that in all those books he had studied a year earlier but his mind drew a blank.

_Finally_ , after what seemed like hours but that must have only been minutes, Larcher placed the probe back on its cradle, turned the machine off and then felt around her abdomen for the third time since the whole thing had started. Haymitch watched him discard his gloves, _waiting_. When the doctor took too long to talk, he snapped. “Well?”

“Well…” Larcher repeated with a wince. “Let’s wait for the tests results so we have a clear picture of what we’re looking at but… Yes, it seems like we have a case of placenta praevia.”

“What’s that _exactly_?” he asked, squeezing Effie’s hand.

She looked at the doctor but her eyes were distant. “Am I going to lose him?”

The doctor didn’t hurry in refuting her fears and Haymitch’s heart started racing _fast_. They couldn’t lose the baby now. They _couldn’t_. There was an empty spot waiting to be filled. They had made a space for him in their lives. They _wanted_ him.

“Let’s wait for the test results and then I will explain everything to you.” Larcher temporized. “It should take only a couple of hours. Effie, I know you hate being here but please try not to stress out too much. The baby is well and there is no immediate danger, get some rest. Haymitch… You might want to check your babysitting arrangements. It might take a while.”

Effie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not protesting when the doctor shut the door behind him. Haymitch really hated those hospital rooms too. They were too white, too clean, and too… He shook his head.

“It’s gonna be fine.” he told her.

“How do you know?” she whispered. She let go of his hand to rub her face. “We were greedy, Haymitch. We have a beautiful little girl. We… We were _happy_.”

“We _are_ happy.” he spat. “We _are_ happy and we’re gonna keep on being happy ‘cause nothing’s gonna happen to this baby. _Fuck_ , no.”

“It’s my fault…” she breathed out.

“No.” he stated very firmly. “Don’t think like that. _Don’t_ … We don’t even know you’ve got that… _that thing_. For all we know, Larcher _fucked_ up.”

“When has he ever been wrong before?” she retorted but the brief bout of anger flickered out as soon as she had let it out. She pulled on the hospital gown so she was decent and curled up on her side, her back to him. “You should call Katniss and make sure she can stay with April. She will want her snack soon… Make sure she knows she should have the apple today, I gave her apricot yesterday.”

He sighed but he _did_ need to get a hold on Katniss so he squeezed her shoulder, pulled on the white thin sheet over her body, and left the room with a promise to come back as soon as possible. It took him a few minutes to locate a payphone and his throat closed when the girl finally picked up and he could hear the baby crying behind her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked at once.

_“Nothing, she woke up cranky.”_ Katniss answered, a frown in her voice. _“Where are you? You said it would only take…”_

“There’s a… complication.” he cut her off. “You can watch April a while longer, yeah? Or call Eileen if you can’t but make sure she’s…”

“ _I can stay with her_.” Katniss interrupted. _“Peeta will be back soon anyway. What’s wrong with Effie?”_

He rubbed his face, wavering between minimizing the risks for the kids’ benefits and telling the truth. In the end, he shrugged. “I don’t know. The baby’s fine but they saw something on the ultrasound.”

_“Is it serious?”_ the girl asked. “ _They’re keeping her in the hospital?”_

“I don’t know.” he repeated. He doubted Larcher would keep her too long, he knew what being there did to her.

_“They must have told you_ something _.”_ Katniss scoffed. _“Does she have to stay the night? She’s gonna want a bag and her stuff… I can pack for…”_

“I don’t _fucking_ know!” he snapped, raising his voice and attracting the attention of several people in his immediate vicinity. He scowled at them, suddenly exhausted. He had known that day would be _shit_. He had known the moment he had spotted the newspaper’s headline. “Look… I’ll call back if she needs to stay over, yeah? For now… Just… Just take care of my baby.”

It was pitiful the way he said that.

Katniss swallowed audibly hard. _“Effie’s gonna be fine.”_

“Yeah.” he said slowly. “She’s Effie, she’s always fine.”

_“Yeah._ ” the girl agreed with far too much cheer. Katniss was terrible when it came to lying, even to make others feel better. _“Don’t worry about April. I’ve got her.”_

“Thanks, sweetheart.” he sighed. He stood there a few seconds after he had hung up, eyes closed, working on keeping his breathing even. It would be fine. It _had_ to be fine. When he walked back to Effie’s room, it was with confidence. Her blue eyes tracked him when he sat on the chair next to the bed, a question plainly written in them, but he simply smirked. “So, our girls are good. Not sure who’s babysitting who to be honest. Sounded to me like April was in charge.”

A small amused smile floated on Effie’s lips but it was fleeting, worry soon returned to her eyes. “I love him.”

“I know.” he said, growing serious too. “But it’s gonna be alright, Princess. If this… this _thing_ is so serious… Maybe we pack up and go to the Capitol for a while. They’ve got better doctors and equipment.” It killed him to suggest it but… There was  nothing he wouldn’t do for his family. Making sure she got the best treatment was part of it. “Or we can try Thirteen. It’s closer. But I think I hate that place more than I hate the city and you won’t like being underground.”

She looked surprised. “You would take me to the Capitol?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be thrilled about it but if that’s what you need, that’s what you get.” He snorted. “Just picture your mother’s face when we tell her…”

Effie cringed. “I do not think I can’t bear five months of living next to my  mother while growing a human being.”

It seemed more punishment than they were ready for, that was true.

“Let’s jump that gun if it comes down to it.” he offered. “Worse comes to worse, I’ll ask your dad to find us a place.”

She reached out and he grabbed her hand, smiling distractedly when she rubbed her thumb over his wedding band. “I really do not want to go to the Capitol, Haymitch. I want to go home.”

“Not long now, sweetheart.” he hummed. “I bet Peeta made you some of those cupcakes you like. Something to look forward to, yeah?”

“Can you sit closer?” she asked, shifting back so there was a small space on the bed. He climbed on without hesitation, good by now at making the both of them fit on a hospital bed. He wasn’t fond of the memories it brought up but she seemed to relax into his side so he wrapped his arms around her and let her use his shoulder as a pillow. It was a few minutes before she spoke again, her voice slightly shaking. “I am in Twelve. I am with you. I am safe.”

“Yeah.” he promised. “Everything else is over, sweetheart.”

“I want to start on April’s room tomorrow…” she told him. “We should get everything ready for her first before doing the nursery.”

“Sure.” he promised. “I’ll go get paint tomorrow morning, yeah?”

He let her talk without interruption, suspecting reciting the list of everything they needed to do was more for her benefit than his own. She needed to ground herself in the present and it was a trick like another.

A nurse popped in every half hour or so, just to check Effie was comfortable and didn’t need anything. They didn’t like her high blood pressure and kept telling her to relax as if it would help. Even Haymitch was getting annoyed by the useless advice.

Effie had long drifted off and Haymitch wasn’t far from taking an unplanned nap himself when Larcher finally came back into the room with a thick folder that Haymitch recognized as Effie’s medical file.

“Sweetheart.” he called gently, nudging her shoulder. He made a move as if to leave the bed and go back to the chair but she grabbed his shirt and the doctor waved him off with a small understanding smile so Haymitch stayed put. “So?”

“So…” Larcher repeated, taking the vacant chair for himself. “The tests we ran are all conclusive…”

“But what does it _mean_?” Haymitch snapped impatiently.

“It means… Your placenta is unusually low, Effie.” the doctor explained patiently. “Which can result in some complications I would rather avoid.” Haymitch opened his mouth again and Larcher lifted a preemptive hand. “It is likely we will be facing a preterm delivery but that does not mean your baby won’t be a healthy little boy at the end of the day. Cases of placenta praevia aren’t uncommon, particularly in Districts, we know how to handle them.”

“So the baby will be alright?” Effie insisted, her fingers bundling Haymitch’s shirt so hard her knuckles were white.

“The baby isn’t the one I’m most worried about.” Larcher countered gently. “You must understand that it’s a serious condition. Because of its position, your placenta might shear off which could trigger some bleeding.”

“I bled before.” she pointed out. “With April.”

“It was different.” the doctor offered. “This time, we are looking at possible risks of hemorrhage, in short, and forgive me for being blunt, you could bleed out.”

“But you can fix it, yeah?” Haymitch heard himself ask, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “You can… _do_ something?”

“There’s no permanent fix.” Larcher shook his head. “What we can and _will_ do is keep a very keen eye on you. We can treat you as an outgoing patient so you won’t have to stay here until delivery…” Effie breathed in a sharp breath when she realized it had been a distinct possibility and Haymitch squeezed her shoulder. “I will put you on my visit roster and I will check on you every two days. We will schedule more ultrasounds to check that everything is as it should be. We will also keep an eye on your blood pressure and I will change your prenatal vitamins. You will have to rest, Effie, and I am serious on this. That means proper sleep, regular balanced meals, and not too much physical activity.”

“You’re putting her on bed rest?” Haymitch asked, just to be clear.

“No.” the doctor smiled. “But I expect her to nap and put her feet up as often as necessary. Do _not_ overdo it. No lifting of heavy things, no more walking the dog and no standing for long periods of time. Ah, and be careful when you pick up April. Try to avoid picking her up from her crib or the floor. That movement plus her weight wouldn’t be good.”

Effie scoffed in distressed disbelief. “I cannot pick up my daughter for _five_ _months_?”

Larcher made a sympathetic face. “I would like it better if you were sitting when holding her but I understand that’s not practical. Do your best and avoid any movement that could put strain on that placenta, that’s all I can ask of you.”

“But she’s _my_ _daughter_.” Effie snapped. “She _expects_ me to pick her up and carry her. She’s… I…”

“Sweetheart…” he whispered. “We can figure something out. It’s just five months.”

“It’s five months of _her_ _life_.” she hissed. “What if she develops a complex or something? What if she thinks I stopped loving her? What if…”

The doctor cleared his throat. “It is a good time to mention you should avoid getting upset, I suppose.”

“ _You’re_ the one upsetting me!” she retorted. Then she bit down on her bottom lip and the tension left her body as she slumped against Haymitch. He held her tighter, hoping to comfort her. “My apologies.”

“It’s fine, I understand.” Larcher offered with a small sad smile. “Now… That’s the day to day recommendations. For the rest… If you realize you are losing blood, you are to call the clinic immediately. We will send a car to pick you up along with someone trained to handle that sort of situations. I am _very_ serious about this, you _have_ to call even if it’s for a few drops.”

Effie remained silent so Haymitch nodded. “Alright.”

The doctor looked ill-at-ease and he figured _that_ was the part Effie wouldn’t like.

“I know how you feel about hospitals, Effie, but you have to understand…” Larcher stated. “If you lose blood, we will have to keep you in observation for a few days. Depending on how serious it is and how things develop, we might keep you a little longer. I know how stressful being here is for you so you will have to trust me when I say that if I decide you should stay here, it is in your and the baby’s best interest. Do you understand?”

Effie was deeply upset, Haymitch could feel it. She was limp against him but there was a strain on her face and her jaw was clenched.

“Yes.” she murmured eventually. “It’s for the baby.”

“And _you_.” Larcher insisted.

Haymitch gently nudged her. “It’s not that bad… Look, you get to go home and… Well, it’s not that bad. Nothing says you’re gonna bleed anyway. We’re just gonna do everything we can so you don’t… I’m gonna take care of April and you can… You can still feed her and play with her… I’ll just… I’ll just make sure I’m the one picking her up, yeah? So what if the baby’s born early… Lots of babies are born early nowadays, yeah?”

“Yes, it is common enough.” Larcher confirmed with a confidence that probably aimed at reassuring her. Of course, then the doctor made a face and Haymitch knew there was more to come. “Speaking of the delivery… We will see how the situation develops but I do think we are looking at a C-section. I know you prefer home deliveries but it won’t be possible this time in any case.”

Effie closed her eyes. “C-section means surgery. I _can’t_.”

“Sure, you can. For the baby.” he chided her, pretending to be more at ease with the idea than he was in reality. He wasn’t thrilled about Effie getting surgery of any kind. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache starting to develop. It often happened when he craved a stiff drink. “You think we should go to the Capitol? No offense but they’ve got better stuff.”

Larcher didn’t seem offended. “I would recommend a relaxing environment above all and if you wish to travel you should do it _now_ but I wouldn’t recommend endless hours spent on a train in any case. Thirteen is closer. Four is another option.”

“I want to stay here.” Effie cut in, looking from him to the doctor. “You have seen this before? You have delivered other women with the same problem?”

“A lot of them, actually.” Larcher shrugged with modesty. “As I said, it is fairly common in Districts.”

“How many babies did you lose?” she asked bluntly.

The doctor took off his glasses and wiped them on his white coat. “It doesn’t quite work like that, Effie. I am more worried about you than about the baby at this stage. And, yes, I won’t lie to you, in some cases if the bleeding becomes too massive… Mother and child are both at risk.”

“I am not important.” she dismissed. “If it comes down to a choice, the baby comes first.”

Haymitch almost chocked. “The _fuck_? No, he _doesn’t_.”

She sat up and barely glanced at him, her whole attention on Larcher. “Do we have an understanding, doctor?”

“No, you _don’t_.” Haymitch spat. “You’ve got _a daughter_ , Effie. Remember about her? Remember about the other two kids who are waiting at home for you? _You_ come first.”

“It is premature to think about this right now.” Larcher firmly cut in. “For now, just follow my instructions. There is no reason for this pregnancy to get out of hands.”

“Except for my medical history.” she snorted. “Is that why this is happening? Is this what happened the last two times?”

The doctor lifted his hands in ignorance. “It is difficult to say for certain. A low placenta can be explained by many factors. Two pregnancies so close together… Age… Previous physical trauma…”

“So this _is_ my fault.” she whispered.

“No.” Larcher refuted firmly, leaning in to briefly squeezed her hand. “It is _not_ your fault. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You cannot think like this, Effie. You have to focus on the positive. Your baby boy is perfectly healthy and we will all do everything we can to keep him that way, to keep both of you that way.” The man glanced at Haymitch. “I will arrange for a car to take you back home.”

Haymitch nodded his thanks but didn’t trust himself to speak. There were too many things floating through his head, the main one being that the whole thing was _unfair_. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It hadn’t been like that with April. There had been a near miss with Clay and it had almost killed him but it had only lasted a few weeks… He wasn’t sure he could bear being afraid of her body giving in for five long months.

“Ah…” Larcher said as he was about to leave the room. He closed the door again and cleared his throat. “This goes without saying but… Penetration of any sort is ill-advised and, Effie, any sort of sexual stimulation wouldn’t be wise for you. Of course, it doesn’t mean you should refrain from complete…” The man stopped and then winced. “We have booklets if you are interested.”

“No, thanks.” Haymitch grumbled. Five months without sex. More given that there would be post delivery stuff to take into account. Half a year. He waited for the door to close behind the doctor to groan. “Can this day get any worse?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Effie deadpanned, running a hand in her wild hair. “Can you hand me my clothes? I want to go home.”

He hopped off the bed to fetch her clothes. “We should talk about going to the city. We don’t have to take a train. I can blackmail Plutarch into lending us a hovercraft.”

He was half-joking in a vague hope to lighten the mood. He didn’t think he would have to resort to blackmail. If he explained the situation, he was pretty confident Plutarch would want to help.

“I don’t want to go to the city.” she replied. “I want to stay home in my house with my dog, my children and my husband.”

“Good to know where I rank in your list of priorities.” he snorted, averting his eyes when she discarded the hospital gown. He didn’t know why he did it, it was stupid. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see her naked without wanting to jump her bones and it wasn’t like he had never gone half a year without having sex with her either. The sex thing wasn’t even that important, he didn’t know why he was obsessing over it. Maybe because it was easier than facing everything else. “It will be okay, Effie.”

She paused with her sweatshirt half on and then slowly pulled it down and smoothed it with more energy than the action required. “I want this baby.”

“I know.” he said.

“I am _serious_ when I say the baby _has_ to come first.” she insisted.

“And I’m serious when I say _fuck_ _that_.” he spat.

She pursed her lips, looked as if she was about to argue and then rummaged in her purse for a hair tie. He watched her tie her hair in a low ponytail without a word, not sure if he wanted to push the point or not.

“I am tired.” she confessed at last. “Really, _really_ tired.”

“Let’s go home.” he nodded.

The promised car was waiting for them outside, along with a new prescription for an impressive list of meds that had Effie wrinkling her nose in distaste. It was a short drive back to the house and the mood between them was weird. Not tense _per se_ but weird.

Effie was distant. She had retreated inside her own mind and while she smiled and answered when he said something, it was in an aloof way that always made him ill-at-ease. He ended up brooding on his own side of the car, trying to register everything that had been said and failing.

He would check the books about pregnancy as soon as Effie had fallen asleep. He needed to do some research. He needed to _understand_ and _be prepared_ and…

Snowball came running when they climbed out of the car, jumping around them with an untamed enthusiasm that had Effie flashing a genuine smile.

“Careful.” Haymitch winced when the dog rested his whole weight against her on his hinder legs.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not about to lift him up.”

“I know.” he sighed. “Just…”

“I know what I am doing.” she snapped, scratching Snowball’s head one last time before letting herself into their house. It was late evening by then and Haymitch followed close to her heels, distractedly petting Snowball as he went. 

“Look!” Peeta declared, walking out of the living-room, April propped on his hip as if she belonged there. “Here’s Mama and Papa! See? I told you they would be back soon.”

“My darling!” Effie exclaimed with a relief so potent Haymitch bit back the warning to take it easy when she snatched their daughter from Peeta’s arms. She hugged the girl close, burying her face in the baby’s neck, breathing her in… He could almost _see_ some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Mama missed you _so_ _much_.”

Effie walked past Peeta to the living-room and sat on the couch, unbuttoning her coat while still cuddling with the baby, so Haymitch got rid of his own coat, avoiding the kids’ eyes. Katniss was leaning against the kitchen’s doorframe, obviously having been busy making dinner.

“How did it go?” Peeta asked, following him into the living-room.

“Did they find out what was wrong?” Katniss added, sticking close to her boyfriend.

Effie didn’t look in any hurry to give an explanation so Haymitch dropped on the couch next to her, relieved when she didn’t move away or flinch. He stroke April’s cheek and finally looked up at the kids’ expectant faces.

“We’re gonna need some help around the house.” he announced. “Effie’s not supposed to do much anymore.”

She opened her mouth as if she was about to protest and then closed it, keeping her eyes on their daughter.

“Sure.” Peeta offered immediately while Katniss nodded. “But you’re okay, right?”

Effie took a deep breath and flashed them her best fake cheerful smile. “Not really but I am confident everything will be fine in the end. This just means I have every excuse to let you spoil me rotten for five months. There are worse fates.”

Katniss snorted and visibly relaxed. “I made rabbit stew.”

Effie cringed, probably because she had _seen_ the dead rabbit up close, but her smile didn’t falter. “Lovely. Thank you, dear. And thank you for looking after April so well today.”

“No problem. We had fun.” the girl declared.

“They hunted stuffed toys.” Peeta clarified helpfully. “It was the cutest thing. I took pictures.”

Effie laughed and Haymitch allowed himself to relax a little.

“I’m starving.” he declared. “You gave April her bath?”

“I was just going to.” the boy shrugged. “She ate though.”

“I will do it.” Effie smiled, pressing kisses on the baby’s cheek. Haymitch let out a hesitating noise, not quite sure she should but not quite willing to tell her so either. She must have realized that kneeling next to a bathtub didn’t count as taking it easy because sadness flashed on her face and she looked dejected. “Or maybe not.”

The kids exchanged a worried look.

Haymitch licked his lips and thought fast. She loved bath time. It was her favorite part of April’s routine. And he didn’t want her to feel excluded or…

“What if we put the baby tub in the sink?” he suggested. “We could get a chair up to the bathroom. You can do it and sit.” She beamed and he smiled a little. “We’ll do that. See? We _can_ do this, sweetheart. We can find ways around stuff.” He briefly squeezed her nape, mindful of the kids’ watchful eyes. They had probably figured out it wasn’t just a simple matter of getting some rest but he would wait until he could get them alone to brief them. He didn’t want Effie to have to hear the whole thing twice. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Her smile was faltering and her eyes were filling with tears she blinked away hastily. He wasn’t sure if it was hormones or just the events of the day catching up with her but he was grateful when Peeta perched himself on the armrest next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a hug.

“I am just tired.” she tried to dismiss, laughing a little at her perceived silliness. “I am fine. I swear.” She patted the boy’s forearm but Peeta didn’t let go and Haymitch leaned a little against her side under the pretence of holding April. He wasn’t really surprised when Katniss, after a moment of hesitation, moved behind the couch and looped her arms around Effie’s neck, her chin propped on her boyfriend’s arm. Effie was really having troubles controlling herself now. Haymitch expected her to brush them all away with an easy joke and a bright cheerful oath that she was alright. It was why he was so alarmed by what came out of her mouth next, because he knew her enough to know it meant she was actually _really_ worried. “I love all of you, you know.”

“And we love you too.” Peeta answered immediately with an ease neither Katniss nor Haymitch would have possessed.

The moment was charged and Haymitch’s hand drifted to her stomach.

Feeling his palm there apparently broke the spell she was under because she exclaimed loudly, extricating herself from the embrace to turn to the kids. “Oh, we did not tell you! We are having a boy.”

The kids mustered the proper excited answers and Haymitch seized the opportunity to pick her his daughter.

“You’re having a baby brother, sweetheart.” he informed her firmly. It was almost a challenge. They would be having this baby and Effie would survive it just fine. He couldn’t accept anything else. “How do you like that?”

Effie’s head fell on his shoulder and when he looked at her she gave him a soft smile.

He smiled back a little hesitantly.

“We’re gonna be fine.” he said again.

He wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to convince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you saw that diagnosis coming! Did you like this chapter? Let me know!


	56. 7 Months & 19 Weeks

April let out a small whine at the next boom of thunder and Effie automatically ran her hand up and down her back to soothe her.

“Shh, darling… There is nothing to be afraid about.” she hummed. “ _Hush, little baby don’t you cry… Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby_ …”

She kept on singing softly but April didn’t really calm down.

The lighting storm was bad and Effie honestly didn’t know how Haymitch was sleeping through it. She had been awake and staring at the wall, trying not to flinch with every new roar of thunder, long before she had heard April stirring through the baby monitor. She had reached the nursery before the girl had started wailing but it had been a close thing. Snowball too had been awake, pacing around the crib, not quite at ease.

She had hesitated, of course, mindful of the doctor’s recommendations about picking her up. But when April had gripped the crib’s bars tight and hauled herself up, not quite understanding why her mother wasn’t offering the comfort she needed, Effie had given up on prudence and had lifted her up in her arms. She had been careful about it but she had felt much better once her daughter had been nestled against her chest, her little head tucked under her chin. 

She had gone downstairs to let Haymitch rest and had settled on the couch with the throw away blanket. Now April was sitting on her stretched legs, Snowball was curled up in his bed next to the roaring fireplace and Effie had a front row seat to the lightning storm outside.

“Do you know you were born on a night like this?” Effie smiled at April, picking up the pacifier the girl had just spat, watching her as she rubbed the cat rag doll against her face, betraying how tired she was. She didn’t want to lie down though. Every time Effie settled her against her, her daughter wriggled and rolled back to a sitting position. “Thunder can be scary but it can bring good things too, you see?”

It would bring nothing good to the District. December wasn’t yet as harsh as it had been the previous year but there had been a few snow falls already and the violent rain would transform Twelve into a giant mud pit. The faint honking of the geese in the distance told her the birds weren’t any happier about the weather than her daughter and her dog were but she estimated that if they could survive a blizzard in their pen, they could live through a lightning storm. She would have gone and checked if she had been truly worried but she really didn’t want to get wet just because Haymitch’s birds were getting nervous.

“Look how beautiful the sky is, darling…” she insisted, turning April a little to the right so she could see through the window over the edge of the couch. The dark night sky was regularly struck by a flash of lightning that allowed her to see the whole street as if it was daytime. It only lasted a second, then she only had time to count to five before thunder boomed. “The storm is over our heads…”

Or it would be really soon.

The lamp she had turned on kept flickering and she was quite sure electricity would give in before the end of the night. It was a recurrent problem in Twelve.

April didn’t like the sight. She let out a sound of protest and plummeted forward. Effie caught her and broke her fall before she could hit her stomach. The almost eight months old baby wasn’t the only one who wasn’t liking the storm. Effie hauled her up closer to her chest, letting her snuggle, and rubbed her round belly with her free hand, hoping to soothe the relentless kicking that had begun a few minutes earlier.

She smiled when she realized she could feel the hits under her palm and automatically strained her neck to look in the direction of the dark corridor. Haymitch would have liked to feel Aidan but she didn’t want to make the trip up the stairs and she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake him up either.

Ever since Larcher had told them about her condition… Haymitch was _impossible_.

She knew he meant well and she had expected him to become overprotective but… Well, she wasn’t sure she would be able to bear four months and a half more of _this_. He was constantly looking over her shoulder, barely _ever_ leaving her side – she had been forced to slam the bathroom door in his face more than once – cautioning her to be careful every time she did something else than lie on the couch or their bed. The other day, she had _begged_ Katniss to take him and Snowball to the woods just so she could _breathe_.

Katniss, who understood the need for some _alone time_ all too well, had been good enough to not only drag a kicking and screaming Haymitch away but to keep him there for a couple of hours. Peeta had refused to leave her alone in the house – _just in case –_ but had stuck to the kitchen, leaving her upstairs by herself, free to do whatever she had wished.

She felt like a prisoner in her own home.

Eileen visited her now and then but between the coffee shop, the weather and her own children, her visits were unfortunately short and few in between.

Since she wasn’t allowed to do the laundry – a task that had been delegated to Peeta because Haymitch couldn’t be trusted not to shrink everything or turn it pink – or the cleaning – that was now _Katniss’_ chore, and Effie was too polite to say anything but she was desperate to be more thorough than the girl – and had basically been forbidden to do anything judged _taxing_ , all she could do was sit and busy herself sketching clothes or knitting or sewing.

She loved doing those things but it used to be a hobby and now it was something she did to not go crazy with inactivity. Even her time with April was under scrutiny. Someone was always popping their head in the room to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it or doing something that could be dangerous for her or the baby she was carrying.

She sighed and placed her hand on the back of her daughter’s head.

“They will drive me insane long before this baby is born.” she told her very seriously. April wriggled and rolled again so Effie helped her sit up once more, pursing her lips at her. “You should really try to sleep now. You will be a very cranky girl tomorrow.” She got a sharp noise in answer and a long stride of gibberish nonsense that made her smile. “Can you say Mama? _Ma_ - _ma_ …”

It was too early for that probably but April seemed to be a master at “ _ba-bla-bah”_ noises and it _really_ wasn’t that far in sound…

April wasn’t really interested in learning to talk though. She brought the rag doll to her mouth to suck on it and Effie quickly took it away to replace it with the pacifier. “Don’t do that. It is filthy. The cat is for cuddles, not for chewing.”

Unconcerned with her rebukes, her daughter sucked on the pacifier, coiling her small fingers around her wrist with surprising strength. Effie was always surprised at how strong she could be. Thunder boomed and April startled badly. Her grip on Effie’s arm tightened when she let out a sharp cry, the pacifier falling from her mouth yet again.

“It’s alright, darling.” Effie promised, wiping the tears from her daughter’s cheeks and making soothing noises. “Mama’s here. Mama’s here.” After a few minutes, April calmed down enough to accept the pacifier back but she was clearly sulking. Effie bumped her playfully on the nose with the rag doll, relinquishing the toy when the baby grabbed it to cuddle. “Mama will always be here, darling. _Always_.”

One of her hands left April’s hips to rest on her stomach and she briefly closed her eyes.

_At least, I hope so_ , she thought.

She had read everything that were in the books about her condition and she couldn’t say she was reassured by the knowledge it wasn’t an uncommon thing. She had never heard of _placenta praevia_ before but according to the books, it wasn’t that surprising. They were more common in pregnancies that were close together so it made sense that it would be a thing in the Districts where protection had never been available. Pregnancies in the Districts also often resulted in still-born babies, miscarriages and dead mothers. Before the war, at least. Things were better now.

Still, it was a risky pregnancy. A few books advised abortion if it was too serious and if it was detected soon enough.

They hadn’t discussed it – they hadn’t discussed the situation properly since coming back from the clinic – but she supposed Haymitch had read the same things she had and that it was why he was so frayed with worry. She suspected he hardly slept. When she woke up in the morning, he was always lying next to her, watching her wistfully. He ran around the house all day, either trying to make himself useful by taking care of April or fetching things Effie hadn’t requested and didn’t need in a self-professed quest to make her feel better.

He was trying to hide his shaking hands from her but she had noticed the tremors and the headaches. She knew what it meant. She wished he would tell her when he was struggling with the urge to drink but she knew better than confronting him about it.

They were both trying to avoid or delay a fight that seemed to her inevitable.

“If… If I have to leave you, April…” she whispered, not quite sure why she was saying that at all. It felt like bad luck to think about it. But she also knew firsthand how fragile life was and… “You have to know I fought as hard as I could to stay. I love you so much…” She sighed and dropped her head against the back of the couch, barely hearing the next boom of thunder. “I would die for you, you know. In a heartbeat. And I would die for your brother too. And… And it might not be fair but I know you will be alright because your papa will be here to take care of you, of both of you and…”

Her eyes filled with tears that she blinked away.

The idea that she might not be able to see April grow up, to even see _Aidan_ at all… It was too much. Not only unfair but _suffocating_ because of how painful it was.

She didn’t know if she was being overdramatic or not. The children and Haymitch’s behavior didn’t help. She felt on borrowed time, frail and breakable. The knowledge that a C-section was surely waiting at the end of the road was hard to bear. The prospect of staying in a hospital again…

She had faced death before. She had been desperate for it at times. But _right_ _then_ … Right then dying terrified her more than it had ever done.

“I’m gonna fall apart if I lose you.”

The words were delivered in a quiet matter-of-fact voice just behind her and she startled badly. April, at least, seemed happy for it, she outstretched a grabby hand in her father’s direction, making becoming noises around her pacifier, her wish clear.

“No, you won’t.” she countered while Haymitch stepped around the couch to join them. He sat next to her and held their daughter’s hand. “You will take care of the children.”

“I’ll drown in a bottle.” he retorted in an angry growl. “I won’t off myself ‘cause, yeah, there are the kids to think about, _provide_ _for_. But I sure as hell know myself, sweetheart. I lose you, I fall apart.”

“Haymitch…” she sighed.

“I mean it.” he snapped. Of course, it was the moment the electricity chose to shut down, leaving them in an ominous darkness. Neither of them did well with darkness. She wasn’t surprised when he stood up to stroke the fire. “You can’t die. That’s behind us. You can’t leave me with two babies and just say I’m gonna be fine ‘cause I need to take care of them. You can’t just _opt out_. We said we were doing this _together_ , Effie. _Together_.”

“Well, I certainly _never_ said I _wanted_ or _was planning_ on dying, Haymitch.” she snapped. “I simply said…”

“You said, it comes down to a choice, we need to put the baby first and _I_ say…” he shot back.

“I _cannot_ lose another child.”  she cut him off.

“And _we_ cannot lose _you_.” he spat. “So where does that leave us, sweetheart? You tell me.”

“Hopefully, with both the baby and me healthy and alive.” she deadpanned. She shook her head, distractedly combing her fingers through April’s hair when she startled at another round of thunder. “I do not want to die, Haymitch. But, yes, if it comes down to a choice between the baby and me…”

“No.” he scowled.

“He is your child too.” she reminded him, angry on the baby’s behalf.

“You think I don’t know?” he snarled. “You think the thought of losing him doesn’t _kill_ me? You think it’s easy for me to say I’d let our baby die just to save you?” His jaw clenched and he turned away from her. The flames were projecting strange shadows on his face and she couldn’t read his features. “I need you, Effie. The kids need you. We can survive without this boy, we can’t survive without you. It’s just the clever choice to make. It’s the only…”

“This isn’t the Hunger Games, Haymitch.” she interrupted again.

How many times had they done that? Had that particular conversation? Always in the dead of night as if it would make it easier, usually in front of the bay window with a bottle of whiskey for him and a cigarette for her. It had always been a debate, sometimes just for the sake of it, because they both felt choosing which tribute to favor warranted it, when they had both already known which child had the best chance of making it – and often both agreed that neither of them would last more than five minutes.

He flinched. “I know.”

“Do you?” she wondered.

He was silent for a long moment and then his shoulders slouched. “I can’t lose you. Don’t ask me to.”

“I am not asking you to.” she breathed out. “I want to live. Don’t you think I want to _live_? I won’t lie to you, it hasn’t always been like that. There were days…” She shook her head, not needing to remind him the state she had been in when she had first come to Twelve. “I want to live, Haymitch. _So_ _badly_. I want to see my children grow up and have babies of their own. I want… I want to dance with you at Katniss and Peeta’s wedding. I want to grow old with you. I want so many things…”

Haymitch walked back to the couch slowly and dropped next to her again. April was tired and cranky but once he nestled her between them, with her head on his chest, she calmed down. Effie kept running her fingers in her daughter’s blond hair, listening to the gibberish she babbled around her pacifier.  

“It is all very premature anyway.” she declared, trying to sound dismissive but failing. “We do not know what will happen.”

He said nothing. Not for a long time.

April was asleep and she had rested her own head on his shoulder, slowly but steadily drifting off, when he finally spoke. “We need to update our wills.”

“What?” she frowned.

“I hate this.” he grumbled and she knew the only reason he didn’t fidget or kick something was the sleeping baby on his chest. “I _fucking_ hate this but it got me thinking… There’s nothing in our wills about what happens to our kids if we both die or are incapacitated.”

She realized that he was right. “Oh… Well… I do not see why _you_ would…”

“Come on.” he scoffed. “Let’s not pretend I’m gonna stay healthy forever.”

“Haymitch.” she growled.

“Yeah, not so fun to think about the one you love dying, is it?” he taunted but then shook his head. “We should decide. Just in case.”

She pursed her lips and curled up tighter against his side, resting her hand on April’s head. “Alright.”

After a few minutes spent in silence, he snorted. “So? Who’s your first choice? Please, don’t say your family.”

“Of course not.” she scoffed. “I suppose Annie and Johanna come to mind but…”

“They already have Finn.” he finished. “And I’m not sure they can cope with three kids.”

“Exactly.” She made a face. “We would have to ask them and they are _awfully_ young to shoulder such a responsibility and Katniss probably wouldn’t be one hundred percent alright with it but…”

“Yeah.” he said immediately. “The kids are my first choice too.”

“Yes.” she agreed with some relief. It was a very obvious decision and she didn’t know why she had expected that to be more difficult than it was.

She pulled the blankets higher over her, covering his lap and April too. They should all head back to bed, she supposed, keep April in their room if it would make the girl feel better but she didn’t really want to move. The storm was moving on and she found some peace in watching the lightning in the sky.

“I want this baby too, you know.” he said quietly, letting his head drop on top of hers. “Just… I don’t know, sweetheart… We went from being happy to being all… _scared_ in a second and…” He shrugged. “The media circus doesn’t help.”

The press, as was only to be expected, was all over her pregnancy like vultures despite the official statement they had passed along through Plutarch, confirming that Effie was pregnant again and asking them once more to respect their privacy. She hadn’t thought it would work but she had still hoped for some decency.

Some paparazzi were apparently camping in front of her parents’ house, harassing them for information. Her father was forced to call Peacekeepers twice a day.

She resolutely chased her parents from her mind. She hadn’t told them about her problems, knowing her mother would fuss and insist on coming to stay with them. Neither she nor Haymitch would survive _that_ right then.

“I know.” she sighed. “We shouldn’t think about it this way, though. We cannot live in fear for the next five months. We have to be happy and see the bright side… We have a healthy daughter and Doctor Larcher promised me the baby is doing fine for now…”

“Yeah.” he smirked. “True. We should start working on April’s room.”

They had put that on the backburner along with the nursery. They had been living in a sort of limbo for two weeks and it wouldn’t do at all.

“Yes.” she said resolutely. “We will do that. Tomorrow. And we will pick some furniture for the nursery. Mother sent magazines.”

“Alright.” he snorted indulgently. “We’re just gonna… We’re gonna focus on the happy stuff.”

“Exactly.” she grinned. “Speaking of…” She grabbed the hand with which he wasn’t holding April and brought it to her stomach, shifting a little so the angle wasn’t painful for him. “Just wait for it.”

He had to wait five minutes but she knew from her previous pregnancy that he could wait a lot longer to feel a kick. He loved that: feeling the baby kick.

His face lit up when he felt their son for the first time under his palm. Her grin widened.

“Hello, jellyfish.” he murmured, gently rubbing his thumb on her round baby bump.

She chuckled. “See? This is what we should focus on. Happy moments. All those first times…”

“Like April saying _Mama_ for the first time?” he teased. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been training her.”

“Like you haven’t been trying to make her say Papa behind my back.” she chuckled. “Do not think you can keep any secret from me, Haymitch. I know you too well.”

She expected a witty retort, some more banter… What she got was an almost brutal kiss that took her breath away.

He licked his lips when he drew back, his grey eyes far too bright.

“Yeah, you do.” he whispered softly.

And because she did, she heard what he wasn’t saying.

_Don’t ever leave me, Princess_.

It wasn’t a promise she could make but she would _certainly_ try her best not to. 

“We will _all_ be fine.” she declared. “You will see. In five months, we will have another baby and we will all fine and this will all feel like bad dream. We _have_ to believe it.”

Blind hope had never been his thing. He was too much of a down-to-earth person for that.

However, he forced a smirk and purposefully stroke her belly with his thumb. “Alright. No more gloomy thoughts.”

She rewarded him with a bright smile and another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more gloomy thoughts! And the kids get the babies if something happens to hayffie! Are they the right choice ? Aidan is kicking! April doesn't like thunderstorm! Hayffie family is cute, isn't it? Let me know your thoughts!


	57. 8 Months & 22 Weeks

“For the last time, are you _sure_?” Haymitch sighed as he adjusted the plastic sheet on the floor. “’Cause we can still go back, sweetheart.”

Well… It was a little late for that. The empty guest room had been turned into April’s room the previous week under her strict supervision. He had been afraid she would want something in a vivid shade of pink that would blind him every time he stepped in but he was actually pleasantly surprised by the end result.

Two of the walls in April’s room were a light pink, the other two had been left white for Peeta to draw on – and the cartoonish butterflies and the giant flowers were complementing the room nicely. Most of the furniture that had been in the nursery had been moved there with the exception of the changing table that would remain in there. The white crib, the dresser, the shelves, April’s toys… Everything had been arranged in there and the room looked really cute – Haymitch could admit _that_. It had taken two days for their daughter to get used to her new room but now he really doubted she was seeing the difference.

Turning the nursery into what would be Aidan’s room proved to be a challenge now. Effie was adamant she didn’t want yellow on the walls anymore and so they had settled on a grayish blue that was soothing to look at. The plan was to have it very much like April’s room, leaving at least a whole wall white for Peeta to work his magic.

Then they would order more furniture and Effie would go overboard with the clothes and toys shopping and everything would go back to normal.

At least that was the plan.

The tears in Effie’s eyes told him it would be a little more complicated than that.

“It is so _sad_ to imagine this room will simply be gone…” she breathed out, brushing her hand on the cartoonish animals running all around the room. “April spent her first eight months in there.”

And Haymitch had taken as many pictures as she had requested _before_ emptying the room and afterwards too. They had enough pictures of the room to fill a whole album.

“I can try to save the frieze.” he suggested. It would be more complicated but he could try.

“Oh, would you?” she beamed. “That would be _great_. Then, it would mostly be a color change and not… I do not like the thought of changing the room _entirely_. April is already losing the bathroom, what if she thinks that we love her brother more later on? I do not want either of them to feel like we favor one over the other.”

He rolled his eyes and watched her take a huge bite of the sandwich she had been carrying around, making an effort not to smirk. She had a round belly now and he loved it. Of course, she also kept complaining she was hungry – she claimed having the kids around waiting on her hand and foot all the time grated on her nerves but she had no qualm sending them to buy her sandwiches at the coffee shop or ask Peeta for pastries.

Larcher frowned a little on some of her favorite snacks but refrained from commenting too much because it was usually a pain to get her to eat properly. She was on a strict diet for meal times, she had to take pills to compensate for her deficiency in iron  as well as some vitamins… Haymitch was happy to let her eat what she wanted as long as it wasn’t just sugar. Still, he wasn’t sure sandwiches counted as a decent breakfast.

“Nobody’s favoring one over the other.” he promised. “We agreed it made sense to have the younger one in the room with a bathroom. When she’s bigger April can have the bathroom on the landing for her alone. Nobody’s ever using it anyway. Won’t be _in_ her room but it will be hers.”

“Alright.” she sighed, rubbing the side of her stomach.

“You’re okay?” he asked immediately. There had been no problem yet and while they all remained vigilant they had also started to relax a little. Effie had a happy glow to herself despite the looming danger those days, she was at ease with her pregnancy this time around, and she didn’t look like she would collapse and bleed out the next second.

“He’s rolling around.” she told him with a small grin.

He smirked and placed his hands on either sides of her belly, chuckling a little when he felt the kicking. April had been very active and Aidan was clearly following in his sister’s footsteps. “Hello, jellyfish.”

“I will have Peeta do an underwater design on this wall.” she said with unabashed enthusiasm, pointing to the wall between the window and the door. “It will be _charming_.”

“I’m sure.” he snorted, leaning in to steal a kiss before she could start describing everything once more. He had seen enough of her sketches to know _exactly_ what she wanted. She answered to the kiss at once. He had meant it as a quick peck but she wasn’t so easily denied and she deepened it until her tongue was very much in his mouth and his hands started roaming from her stomach to her ass. He wasn’t quite sure how they ended up with her carefully pinned to the wall and his shirt halfway up his chest but, then again, he _never_ was. He groaned when her teeth closed on his nipple and bowed to capture her mouth again before it could go any further. “Sweetheart…” he mumbled against her lips. “We can’t…”

“But I _miss_ you.” she whined.

“Miss you too…” he grumbled and then they were kissing again. It was growing heated once more and he let out another frustrated groan and rested his forehead against the wall next to her head. He could feel her pregnant belly pressing against his stomach, he could feel the faint echo of Aidan’s kicking against him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sure _she_ could feel something of his poking her too. “Come on, Effie… Help me out here…”

“Certainly.” she purred against his ear.

Then her hand was struggling to unbuckle his belt and he had to move to the other side of the room _quickly_ before he forgot himself and why this was a stupid reckless idea. “The abstinence thing? Not for us, sweetheart. Not for us _at_ _all_.”

“Did you doubt it?” she scoffed, and bit down on the sandwich she had never let fall to the floor. He was half impressed and half scared by this instinct of pregnant women not to let go of any potential food source. “You know, just because _I_ can’t doesn’t mean _we_ cannot have some fun.”

“You’re not supposed to get… _stimulated_ down there.” he argued.

“But I can stimulate _you_.” she countered with an innocent smile that looked very fake to him. Whatever she was planning, it was anything but innocent.

“You’re a minx.” he accused, edging closer to her to steal a bite of her sandwich. Tuna. Not his favorite. “And you’ve been on your feet how long this morning?”

“But…” she argued, tugging a little on the collar of his shirt while he stole another bite. As if on cue, April cried. She sighed. “You won’t escape me forever.”

“Promises, promises.” he teased.

It took a few minutes to get April out of her crib, change her, dress her and settle her downstairs so Effie could take care of her without straining herself too much. He placed their daughter in the high chair so she could feed her and lift her up once the baby had her own breakfast without too many efforts.

“Don’t stay on your feet.” he insisted. “Once she’s fed, it’s the couch for you.”

She didn’t like being told what to do but she relented without too much of a fight. He pressed a kiss against her mouth and then went to work on the nursery.

Painting really wasn’t his thing. It left too much time for thinking. And his thoughts lately hadn’t been pretty.

He was excited about the baby, a bit terrified too but mostly excited, he just wished the whole thing was less difficult on Effie. Her first pregnancy had been complicated enough, first because of their own inability to decide what to do and then because of Clay’s murder attempt. She deserved to enjoy this one and instead of that… They had decided to look on the bright side of things but that had always been more her gift than his. He wasn’t good at being positive. He always thought up the worst scenarios and dreaded them until he was proven right or a miracle happened.

“Hey.”

He startled and glanced at the threshold where Katniss was standing a little uncertainly. Things were still tense between them but the problems with Effie had taken precedence over any resentment they could have. Disagreements paled compared to the possibility of losing one of their own.

“I thought you might want help.” the girl shrugged. “Peeta helped with April’s room so I guess it’s my turn.”

He gestured for her to help herself to a brush. “How’s Effie?”

Katniss rolled her eyes, her lips twitching in amusement. “She _said_ you would ask. She’s knitting in the living-room and April is playing in her pen.”

“Good.” he nodded. They painted in silence but it was a comfortable one. The girl’s presence was enough to keep the dark thoughts at bay for a while. He tried to imagine what the nursery would look like once done and, then, he pictured the new baby in it and it brought a small smile to his lips. It would be good. The four of them plus the two overgrown kids next door… It would be _good_. Still, eventually, he went back to thinking about how easily things could go wrong and… “I wanted to talk to you about something…”

Katniss shot him a glance and focused back on her corner of the wall. She was perched on the ladder and had the difficult job of _not_ putting any paint on the ceiling – something, as he had found out the hard way, that would make Effie scream for a whole hour because, _of course,_ she would notice a _tiny_ little dot of pain. “If it’s about the book…”

“No.” He cleared his throat, not quite sure how to go about this. “Look… Don’t freak out too much…”

She frowned and placed the brush back in the can to look at him properly. Her grip looked tenuous to him but he knew she wouldn’t fall. She never did. She was perched on that ladder like a bird on a branch, staring down at him, and he found himself at a loss for words.

“What’s wrong?” she asked after a whole minute of silence on his part.

He averted his eyes and looked back at the portion of wall he was painting. “Nothing’s _wrong_.” Aside from the obvious. “It’s more of a… _just in case_ thing. Effie and I had a talk and…” He hesitated and then rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like them to dance around important subjects. “Look, we were wondering… If anything happens to us, would you look after the kids? You and Peeta, I mean.”

Her frown deepened. “Are you dying?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not dying anytime soon.” he sighed. _Hopefully_. She didn’t ask the same of Effie and he resolutely didn’t linger on _why_. “It’s just a precaution.”

She studied him for a long time and she must have concluded he wasn’t lying because she shrugged carelessly and went back to painting. “We’re family. You really think we would leave your kids to fend for themselves?”

He smirked a little at that but he was afraid she hadn’t really _gotten_ it. “I mean take them in. Raise them as if they were yours.”

Her brush froze, leaving a darker spot of paint that he hoped wouldn’t be noticeable once they would be done. “You want us to raise your children?”

“You see anyone else lining up for the job?” he snorted.

“Annie and Jo.” she said at once.

“They’re an option.” he admitted. “So is Effie’s family if it comes down to that. We’ll ask the girls if you think it’s too much for you…”

“Have you talked to Peeta about this?” Katniss asked.

He shook his head. “We both know he’s gonna say yes without thinking twice about it. It’s _you_ I wanted to ask. I don’t want you to get trapped in something you don’t want.” She looked offended and he clucked his tongue in annoyance before she could object. “I know you would do right by my kids, sweetheart. There’s no doubt of _that_.” What she had done for Prim, she would do for his children. They were, as she had claimed, family. “But it’s a huge thing to ask and there’s no shame in saying it’s too much for you.”

Katniss was still staring, her eyes a little wide. It took her a few seconds to answer. “You would trust me to raise your children.”

It was a statement and not a question. He shrugged. “Frankly, sweetheart, I trust you and the boy over anyone else. You’re my first choice. Effie’s too. But we understand if…”

“Yes.” Katniss cut him off, jutting her chin high in the air.

He closed his mouth slowly, letting the rest of his sentence trail off. “You’re sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.” she scowled. “They’re _your children_. That makes them my…” She stopped, probably having thought the word _siblings_ and then made a face because that word was forever meant for a dead girl who liked to wear braids and had a cat who liked to claw everyone’s legs. “I love April, you know. I’m not good with babies but I love her.”

“I know.” he offered. “Talk about it with Peeta, yeah? If you’re both sure… There are papers for all of us to sign.” He saw the flash of suspicion on her face and he rolled his eyes. “I _promise_ I ain’t dying. We’re just trying to be responsible for once.”

The joke seemed to assuage her worries because she went back to painting.

And, just like that, the entire matter was dropped. Neither of them liked to linger on emotional exchanges.

The girl bowed out after a couple of hours, claiming she had promised to bring lunch to Peeta at the bakery. Haymitch finished the third wall before finally putting the brush down for the day. He stretched, groaning a little at the ache in his back, considering the day’s work. It didn’t look that bad. They had managed to spare the freeze. It might need another coat of paint and there was still the fourth wall to work on but, all in all, he decided he had earned a break.

And lunch.

He stopped in the bathroom to change out of the paint-stained shirt and to wash a little before hurrying down the stairs, following the call of his stomach to the kitchen. The TV was on rather loud in the living-room and he distractedly placed the stew leftover on the stove to heat, smirking a little when Snowball came running with a joyful bark.

“Someone’s hungry.” he snorted, petting the dog’s head. He amused himself by tossing him treats for a few minutes when the Samoyed followed to the letter the orders he issued – simple things like sitting, fetching specific stuff or just catching – before relenting to his pleading eyes and filling his plate. “Good boy.”

Snowball bumped into his leg but it might have more to do with his eagerness to get to his food than any particular display of affection.

He was staring at the collection of baby food jars and wondering what April would enjoy for lunch when his mind finally caught up with what Effie was watching.

 _“We simply ask for recognition.”_ a man’s voice was claiming, clearly angry. “ _I do not think it is too much to demand.”_

 _“Plutarch Heavensbee already vouched for you.”_ a female voice retorted, haughty like most journalists tended to be when they would rather be interviewing someone more famous. _“You have been given the Medal of Honor for your actions during the war, haven’t you? Surely you can understand how some would believe it is enough of a distinction and…”_

 _“Are you implying I should keep silent and help Thirteen perpetuate a lie just because I was given a shiny little trinket?”_ the man scoffed.

Haymitch frowned and, after a glance at the stove, left the kitchen for the living-room.

 _“Are you accusing the government of lying?”_ the journalist gasped.

He reached the living-room in time to see the man frown on the screen. He was young, he had dark eyes and brown hair that fell over his left eye in a studied display of disarray. His thin lips were pursed tight in irritation. _Calmus Caldwell_ , _president of the AFCR_ , a small banner indicated in the bottom right corner of the screen.

 _“Oh, I think we can all agree President Paylor has been very skilled at avoiding taking a side.”_ the man snorted.

“What’s AFCR?” he asked, propping his forearms on the back of the couch. Effie glanced up at him in surprise. She obviously hadn’t heard him coming down. Her face was closed and she was hugging April’s stuffed elephant tight to her chest. She didn’t look _upset_ but she looked unhappy and he knew that fleeting spark in her eyes. Whatever this was about, it had reminded her of the war. “The _fuck_ ’s going on now?”

He looked back at the screen but aside for the news channel’s logo and a scrolling banner at the bottom with the main news of the days, it didn’t tell him much.

“AFCR is short for Association for Capitol Recognition.” Effie sighed. “Mother told me about it.”

 _“The Districts were the most affected by the war.”_ the journalist snapped back, clearly losing her cool. “ _Capitol people_ cannot _make themselves the victims now. It would be too easy. Your association…”_

“ _So you agree with the terrorists who set fire to our headquarters?”_ Caldwell accused. _“Why? Because of our claims that there were heroes and martyrs amongst the Capitol people during this war too? Because it offends you to acknowledge that the Purge was wrong?”_

Haymitch scoffed. “He’s got nerves.”

“He is right.” Effie said slowly.

“What?” he asked, taken aback.

“He isn’t trying to negate what happened under Snow’s rule, Haymitch.” she explained slowly. “He is talking about the Capitol people who were turned into Avoxes, about the Capitol people who worked for the rebellion and that history would rather forget. He’s petitioning for the government to recognize that Snow’s government detained and tortured Capitol citizens during the war.”

“He just said the Purge…” he argued, over the angry answer of the journalist.

 _“I am not saying there was no need for_ justice _and_ certainly _trials were necessary.”_ Caldwell retorted, running a hand in his hair to toss them back. Haymitch abruptly shut up when he realized the studied hairstyle wasn’t as much out of vanity as to hide the deep scar that ran from his forehead to his jaw. It was a miracle the man _still_ had an eye at all. “ _But was it necessary to drag eighty year-old former escorts out of their beds to execute them? Those trials were a sham and everyone knows it.”_

“How long do you think before they mention my name?” Effie whispered, too detached for it to be genuine.

Haymitch pursed his lips tight in annoyance, knowing she was most likely right. He walked around the couch, plucked April from her pen where the girl had fallen asleep and came to sit with her on the couch. Effie leaned against his side, her fingers coiling around their daughter’s ankle.

 _“The trials were fair.”_ the journalists argued.

 _“Oh,_ were _they?”_ Caldwell hissed with cutting sarcasm. “ _I find it curious that during those_ fair _trials no one ever mentioned that not only the Gamemakers and escorts were all confined to the Training Center following the arena’s explosion but that some of them were tortured for information on the rebel movements. I am_ not _saying they were all rebels but, clearly, they had done enough to make the Capitol question their loyalties.”_

 _“You were the assistant of a Gamemaker before the war.”_ the woman accused as if it was her master card, as if it automatically made the man a bad guy.

 _“Yes.”_ Caldwell confirmed simply. _“And it didn’t stop me from acting as a spy for Plutarch Heavensbee. And this is precisely why I can tell you not everything is black or white. Those people… Some of them were cut to pieces down there. Some of_ us _were cut to pieces.”_

 _“According to you and a handful of Games staff survivors nobody has ever heard of before.”_ the journalist retorted. _“Nobody_ important _can corroborates those facts.”_

 _“They could if they chose to.”_ Caldwell snapped. _“But they won’t. Because they want our voices silenced. We are Capitols and we were hurt during the war. We were tortured. We suffered. Not all of us were Snow loyalists. Some of us stood with the Mockingjay. Some of us didn’t have any opportunity to contact the rebels. Some of the people President Coin slaughtered were innocent and not everyone had the necessary relations to escape the Purge. But people don’t want to hear this side of the story so they try to burn my house down.”_

“Who burned his house down?” Haymitch asked, distractedly rocking April who was starting to wake up.

“They don’t know.” Effie shrugged. “Their association is not well liked.”

 _“Are you referring to Effie Trinket?”_ the woman asked.

Haymitch winced, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Effie’s free hand was rubbing her stomach.

 _“Effie Trinket is not the point of this interview.”_ Caldwell dismissed.

 _“But you mentioned people escaping the Purge because of their relations and the leap is not difficult to make given her relationship with Haymitch Abernathy who was not only an influent victor at the time but also a key member of the rebellion.”_ the journalist insisted. _“Are you implying that Effie Trinket is a member of your association?”_

Effie gulped a sharp breath of air. Haymitch covered her shaking fingers with his hand.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” he promised. “I’m just gonna call Plutarch and…”

“ _I never so much as implied that.”_ Caldwell sighed, sounding disgusted and disappointed at the same time. _“Aren’t you tired of harassing that poor woman yet?”_

 _“Her official pardon was never explained.”_ the woman shrugged. _“And there_ were _official retributions. It is no secret her fortune was seized by the government…”_

 _“And the fact the government was bankrupted and desperately needed money at that point had nothing to do with it, I am sure.”_ Caldwell snorted. _“I won’t talk about Effie Trinket. What happened to her is her story to tell.”_

“Asshole.” Haymitch growled. It was just enough of a bone that the press would be over it for weeks, wondering what that meant and if the man had information about what had happened to her during the war. It wouldn’t take long for someone to make the link and figure it all out…

“Language.” Effie chided, sounding tired.

 _“Do you know that story?”_ the journalist insisted.

 _“I know she more than deserved her pardon.”_ Caldwell snapped. _“Now, can we go back to talking about the terrorists who set my house on fire or are we going to stay off topic? I never made the mistake of thinking your channel was neutral but, at least, I thought it was about news and not gossips.”_

Nothing else worth hearing was said and Effie eventually turned the TV off. They stared at the black screen in silence for a while, barely listening to April’s nonsensical babbling.

“It is _awful_ the things they say about the people in this association.” she declared at long last. “They treat them as if they are merely attention-seekers, as if they are trying to somehow… steal the spotlight away from the Districts’ suffering… It is… It is _disgusting_.”

Haymitch frowned because his mind had been very much focused on how to handle the media circus that was sure to follow. “He shouldn’t have thrown you under the bus.”

“He did not.” she denied, shaking her head. “He could easily have said I was in there. There were other prisoners… I… I believe our paths may have crossed once or twice…”

“You don’t owe any of them anything, Effie.” he said softly.

“I know. But I cannot help but admire them.” she whispered. “I think he was the man giving the lecture Mother went to. It is brave what they are doing… What _he_ is doing. I wish I was brave enough to stop hiding what happened to me like a dirty secret.”

“It’s not a dirty secret.” he grumbled. It had been his decision to keep her fate confidential ultimately. It had been _him_ who had… “You tell the world, they’re not gonna sympathize, sweetheart. They’re gonna want to know every detail just to sell them to the highest bidder. You know that. It’s the same thing as that book of Katniss’… It’s all nice and good to think people will _care_ but…”

“You are bitter.” she objected calmly.

The accusation took him aback and made him frown a little. He cradled April closer to his chest like a shield, watching the small hand clutching the fabric of his shirt. “Maybe, yeah. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“I know.” she admitted. “It is just… It is different for the people in that association. They are not famous. They just want… They want it acknowledged that they have been hurt, that they have been _wronged_ … It is not right for the government to deny them that. They did nothing wrong and…” She shook her head. “If someone with more political weight confirmed that Capitols were tortured and detained during the war…”

“Anyone with enough political weight’s gonna be too much involved in _politics_ to do that.” he snorted. “It’s a political suicide.”

He could ask Plutarch but he knew very well what the former Gamemaker’s answer would be. If Paylor’s official position was to take none, Heavensbee wouldn’t step up.

“You could do it.” she suggested. “You were involved in the rebellion, you are a victor… People would listen to you.”

His instinctive refusal died on his tongue because… She wasn’t wrong. He _had_ influence. And he had nothing to gain or lose in this.

But…

“Might as well tell them the Capitol tortured _you_.” he pointed out. “I’m the one who got you that pardon… They’re gonna sniff it out.”

“You are right.” she sighed, hauling herself off the couch, a protective hand on her belly. “It _would_ be the equivalent of telling them the truth about me and _that_ should come from _me_. And I am not brave or strong enough to face that.” He opened his mouth to argue but she outstretched her hands. “I do not want to talk about it anymore. Give me April, I think something is burning.”

“ _Shit_!” he spat and hurried to the kitchen where an acrid smell was now coming from the stove. He glared at the dog who was lazily spread next to the table. “No need warning us the house’s about to catch fire, Snowball. I’m sure we can put you with the geese when we’re all homeless.”

“Do not go blaming my pretty baby for your lack of attention.” Effie clucked her tongue with fake cheerfulness. Snowball, traitor that he was, immediately ran to her, all wriggling tail and joyful welcoming barks. “April and I are famished.”

“Too bad ‘cause all I’ve got for you is burned stew.” he snorted, passing her April’s food once she had settled their daughter in the high chair.

“It is lucky you are such a good cook, then.” she grinned, battling her eyelashes at him.

He rolled his eyes, snorted again and pressed a kiss against her lips, chasing everything else from his mind.

This, right there, was the important thing.

“Hope you’re in the mood for pasta, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you think? Is abstinence for hayffie? Were you surprised Katniss was so okay with taking in the kids? What do you think of the AFCR? Seems like Effie would like the cat out of the bag if she could choose... Let me know your thoughts!


	58. 9 Months & 24 Weeks

“Hey, Effie! Want to see what I found?”

Effie pursed her lips and glared at the kitchen’s empty threshold, both annoyed that Haymitch couldn’t lose the habit of _shouting_ in the house like some ruffian as well as by the fact she had asked for some peace and quiet. The table was full of threads, needles and shiny fabric that had somehow morphed into a complete mess in the half hour she had been working on that dress.

It wasn’t long before Haymitch appeared, a genuine smile on his lips as he made April wave in the air on her stomach to the baby’s obvious delight, Snowball circling around his legs with his head up, barking up joyfully at the game. Haymitch looked so happy she felt her irritation melt.

“I found the _biggest_ bumblebee.” he told her very seriously.

And she couldn’t help but chuckle because April’s yellow and black sweater really made her look like a bumblebee. She watched him make their daughter ‘fly’ throughout the kitchen for a good minute before shaking her head.

“If you make her sick, you are the one who will deal with it.” she warned.

Haymitch rolled his eyes but stopped waving the baby around to prop her on the table – and on the fabric Effie was trying to sew – holding her up by the waist. “She’s the cutest baby ever.”

“That she is.” Effie agreed easily, laughing a little. Her left hand automatically fell on her stomach when she leaned in to press a kiss on that bumblebee’s tummy. “And Mama loves her very much but she also needs to work.”

“The shrimp thinks you’ve worked enough for today.” Haymitch informed her.

“I thought she was a bumblebee today.” she retorted.

“She still thinks it’s time to rest, sweetheart.” he insisted.

“Haymitch, I am sitting, I am not doing anything physically straining and I _really_ need to finish this.” she sighed. “That dress should have been delivered two days ago.”

But she had been tired lately. Her back pained her – something that seemed to worry Doctor Larcher a lot more than it had the last time – her ankles were swollen and she was often exhausted by the simplest task. Being six months pregnant wasn’t fun. She hadn’t forgotten that.

On top of that her sewing machine had died on her – admittedly it had been in the house before she had arrived and Haymitch had seemed to have no clue where it had come from so who knew how long it had been there gathering dust – making it imperative for her to sew everything by hand.

Her customer was understanding but Effie didn’t want to make this a habit or to hide behind the pregnancy excuse. She wanted to run a business and businesses ran on trust that deadlines would be met.

“Fine.” Haymitch relented. “But if you start feeling tired…”

“I know.” she hissed, checking the clock. “Isn’t it time for April’s nap?”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “Think I might take one too.”

“Do you have a headache again?” she frowned. She wasn’t the only one who wasn’t in excellent shape. Sobriety was a hard road to stay on.

And the snow that had been pouring outside for the last week or so wasn’t helping any. Peeta had caught a cold and had been exiled from the house for the few days it had taken him to recover – just to be on the safe side with her and the baby. Haymitch religiously kept their home at a warm temperature and she was quite sure he was secretly praying no black out would occur that year. So far their luck seemed to hold but winter was a long thing in Twelve and Effie wasn’t holding her breath.

The headache could be related to thirst for a drink or it could be the first symptom of his falling prey to a cold. He was, after all, the one running errands all around the District for her.

“Small one. It’s fine.” he dismissed. “I’m just gonna lie down for a while.”

“Alright.” she smiled, angling her head up so he could peck her lips. “I will bellow at the top of my lungs like a ruffian if I need anything, shall I?”

“Knew I married you for the right reasons.” he teased, stealing another kiss before leaving the kitchen with the shrimp-turned-bumblebee and the dog.

She waved at April until she disappeared around the corner of the corridor. Her daughter didn’t seem pleased to be separated from her, she heard her fussing as they climbed up the stairs, the rumble of Haymitch’s voice too low for her to catch the actual words.

With a small sigh, she went back to work, making a list at the back of her mind of all the things she needed to do.

Inform her parents of the medical development seemed like a priority but it was one she had been steadily pushing back every time she picked up the phone. She simply couldn’t bear the idea of any more fussing, the children and Haymitch did more than enough of that. Besides, her mother would berate her for not doing the smart thing and move to the city for the duration of her pregnancy like Haymitch had offered. And then _she_ would insist on moving to Twelve because that was apparently who Elindra was, now: a mother who would _cross the country_ when her daughter was ill even though she couldn’t have been bothered to cross _the city_ when Effie was in a hospital a few years earlier. It made her feel warm inside to have actual proof that her mother loved her but it also made her feel a little bitter.

She finished the sleeves and briefly stood up to make herself some tea and turn the radio on. She wriggled a little to the catchy beat of the pop song as she fixed her drink, chuckling to herself when she realized how ridiculous she must have looked. A small elephant swinging left and right.

She was still shaking her head at her own foolishness when she sat back down with her strawberry tea.

For a while she worked efficiently, humming along when one of her favorite songs came up on the radio, but it wasn’t long before the light became atrocious. It was early afternoon still but the weather made it hard for her to focus.

She almost welcomed the distraction when the backdoor opened without warning, letting in a gush of freezing air. Effie shrunk back in her pink sweater, watching Katniss battle with the wind to close the door. Snowball came running, half asleep, and immediately dropped down at Effie’s feet when he realized it was only the girl and not some burglar trying to rob them blind.

“Hello, dear.” Effie greeted once she was sure Katniss would hear her over the roaring outside. It seemed like they were headed toward a snowstorm after all.

“Hello.” Katniss mumbled back, unwrapping the green scarf from around her neck, discarding her gloves, her jacket and, after hitting them against the wall failing to get rid of all the snow that clung to them, her boots. “Haymitch’s not here?”

“He is resting.” she told her. “Is it important?”

The girl hesitated, nervously wriggling her blue and white stripped sock-clad toes, before reaching inside the messenger bag she had tossed down. Effie saw the book, wrinkled her nose and made an effort not to recoil when Katniss placed it in front of her at the table.

They had been talking about it for weeks now. She had known it was only a matter of time before the book _actually_ came out. But to see it like that…

“You put Haymitch’s name on it.” she whispered in horror when she realized there were three names glaring back at her from the cover.

_‘A History Of Victors And Tributes_ , _Vol I. Texts by Katniss Everdeen and Haymitch Abernathy. Illustrations by Peeta Mellark.’_

“He wrote most of it.” Katniss shrugged.

She didn’t even try to lift the cover. She didn’t even try to pretend not being upset by all of it. She touched her lips, resisted the urge to bite on her fingernails and then devised ridiculous plans to make sure he never even _glimpse_ one of those books. It wouldn’t work out, of course. He would know.

“He told you he disapproved.” she snapped when she finally accepted there was no way she could keep that from him. “The least you could have done…”

“It was too late, alright?” the girl cut her off, blushing a little. “I had already signed and Plutarch didn’t want to take his name off. He said it added credibility. I asked.” Katniss folded her arms in front of her chest, sulking a little. “The book looks good though.”

“I am sure.” she deadpanned and still made no move to look. It was more than she could bear. She didn’t know _who_ was this one about exactly, if they had mixed tributes and victors… She only knew that if she opened that book familiar dead faces would be staring back at her and that she was not in any mood for that. “He will still be upset.”

Upset wouldn’t begin to cover it, she suspected.

Katniss’ face closed into a scowl and she opened her mouth as if she was about to shout only to fall silent once more. The scowl morphed into a worried pout. “I know. Maybe it’s better if you show him.”

There was a hint of pleading in her voice that made Effie laugh.

“Oh, _no_ , darling.” she refused. “I will be there when you tell him if you wish but I will certainly _not_ do it for you. It was your decision and you will see it through.”

The pout deepened into a sulk. “I _needed_ to do it. It’s… It wasn’t enough to just put the books on the shelves and… Don’t you _see_? People need to know. To remember. To…”

The girl’s voice trailed off and Effie patted her hand with a small smile.

“I hope you find the closure you are looking for with this project, Katniss.” she sincerely offered. “And I _do_ understand why you felt you needed to do this. Nevertheless… You should have talked to Peeta and Haymitch first. It was not your project alone and… There are proper ways to do things, dear. All the more so when it involves people you love.”

Katniss looked apprehensive and a little dejected so Effie stood up with a small sigh to pour her some strawberry tea. The teapot wasn’t steaming anymore but it was warm enough that it would do the trick. It wasn’t the girl’s favorite but she still thanked her in a quiet tone. After some hesitation and a thought for Doctor Larcher’s recommendation not to drink too much tea, Effie shrugged and refilled her own mug halfway up. A little more wouldn’t hurt and she was cold.

“What are you doing?” the girl asked, checking the template Effie was using as reference.

“I owe a dress to Mrs Fisher.” she explained. “It will be the last order until the baby is born. It is too much of a hassle.” She hadn’t admitted as much aloud yet and she flashed Katniss a smile that was far much more cheerful than she felt. Deep down, she was afraid it would be the last order full point. Having a baby took so much energy and time… Having _two…_ She wasn’t sure how she and Haymitch were going to deal. She rubbed her stomach with her free hand, groaning at a particularly vicious kick. Katniss frowned but she simply waved her hand. “Aidan is very active in the afternoons. At least he is a little more considerate than his sister… Why, April would roll and kick all night at that point…”

A small smile floated on the girl’s lips but she looked more scared by the prospect of a tiny human rolling in her belly than moved by the memory. Still, Katniss reached out and it was rare enough that Effie humored her.

She wasn’t fond of people touching her stomach, something everyone seemed compelled to do now that she was visibly pregnant. The urge to push everyone away wasn’t as strong as it had been with April but it was still there, lurking underneath the surface.

She guided Katniss’ hand to where the kicks were the strongest and chuckled when the girl recoiled at the sharp hit under her palm.

“Haymitch loves playing with him.” she confessed fondly and, at her confused look, she explained. “Babies can follow vibrations. Then again he usually kicks when he hears the sound of his voice so it might be just that.”

Haymitch loved talking to her stomach. Sometimes he had long silly conversations with her stomach and April both while she slept in or took a nap. He might thought she didn’t know but she did. She always knew.

“How’s the nursery going?” the girl asked.

Effie smiled and picked up her needle again, working while she talked, occasionally taking a sip of her tea. She told her all about it – probably more than Katniss truly was interested in. The nursery project had been put on hold for now. First because Peeta’s cold had prevented him from working on it, then because the furniture they had ordered were stuck in the Capitol until the weather cleared. There was still time but she was anxious to have everything ready. Her parents had been sending regular shipments of baby clothes they just _happened_ to spot in shop windows and they had bought their share even though they could have easily used April’s…

She was impatient, she supposed.

Katniss offered to help her and since the girl could hold a needle – she wasn’t precise enough for delicate work but she could still sew a sleeve on – and, between the two of them, the dress was taking shape. They had been working on it for a little over an hour, mostly in silence on Katniss’ part and soft singing along the radio for Effie, when a break was called for.

Snacks were in order, she decided as she excused herself to use the bathroom. It was high time to wake April up anyway or she wouldn’t go to sleep later that night. She would check in with Haymitch. If he didn’t feel like getting up, she would let him sleep. She had Katniss to help her carry April around if she felt tired – which she didn’t – and she could manage. Besides, she was looking forward to spending some time with her daughter.

She was planning out April’s snack when she distractedly sat down on the toilets.

All thoughts froze and disappeared from her head when she spotted the stain in her panties.

The air went out of her lungs and she didn’t seem to be able to take any in again. Her ears were ringing. Her fingers prickled with the lack of oxygen. Her stomach churned.

She knew she should _do_ something but she could only stare at the blood on the inside of the blue panties with kissing mouths patterns all over them Haymitch had bought her as a joke when she had grumbled about not fitting into her underwear anymore. It had been a joke. _I know how much you like lips down there_ , he had said and her irritation had subsided enough that she had laughed and her mood had lifted and…

And now there was a blood stain on them and Larcher had said that…

Blood wasn’t good.

She could die from blood loss.

The baby could die with her.

Aidan kicked hard enough that she gulped. Air rushed into her lungs and it was almost painful. It also had the benefit of making her snap out of it. She tried to stand up but her legs wouldn’t carry her. She was shaking, she realized.

She was…

In truth, she was _terrified_.

But Larcher’s warnings kept ringing in her ears and she knew she needed to get out of there, stay on top of the situation, make sure her baby would be fine because… There was no way she was losing Aidan. And there was no way she was dying in the process. _No way_. 

“Katniss?” she called out. It was faint and she cleared her throat, tried again. “Katniss?”

It wasn’t much louder but _thank goodness_ for her hunter hearing despite the mostly deaf ear. There was a knock on the door. “Are you alright?”

She debated lying but…

“No.” she admitted in a slightly shaky voice.

There was a second of silence on the other side of the door. “Alright, I’m coming in.” It was mortifying but Katniss didn’t even blink at finding her still sitting on the toilets with her panties down. She spotted the blood at once. It seemed they all had a gift for spotting blood by now. It threw the girl but she remained calm, the only hint that she was worried was the small tremor in her voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me back to the kitchen.” she whispered. “And then fetch Haymitch please. I need… I need Haymitch. _Please_.”

She was trying really hard to keep her breathing under control. A panic attack wouldn’t be helpful at all. Not to her and not to the baby. She needed to remain calm.

“Are you in pain?” Katniss asked as she helped her up, fixing her clothes like it was a regular thing they did instead of a very humiliating occasion. She was grateful for that.

“No.” she denied, pressing her hand where she could feel Aidan kicking. Was _he_ in pain? She couldn’t feel anything different. She hadn’t even realized she had been bleeding. _How long_ had she been bleeding?

“It’s probably a good sign. Don’t worry.” the girl promised. Katniss handed her the phone when she asked but then she darted upstairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

Snowball paddled over to rest his head on Effie’s thigh and she petted him mechanically, her fingers tangling in his fur when her call finally went through to the hospital. It only took a minute for her to explain the situation to the nurse at the clinic. By the time she heard Haymitch hurtling down the stairs, the woman had promised a car was on its way to them.

Haymitch had a bad case of bed hair and, more than anything else, it made the tears burn her eyes because he had that dazed look from when he couldn’t really tell nightmare from real life. He kneeled next to her chair and placed both hands on her stomach as she handed the phone back to Katniss.

“It will be fine.” she heard herself say with so much confidence she almost believed it. “The clinic is sending a car and a midwife. Doctor Larcher is being called and he will wait for us at the hospital. The nurse said we have to remain calm.”

“You’re still bleeding?” Haymitch asked, moving his right hand. She knew what he was doing. He was following Aidan’s kicking.

“I think so, yes.” she nodded. And maybe, she thought as an afterthought, she should do something about that. Find a pad or…

“Alright.” Haymitch nodded, clearly making an effort not to show how panicked he actually was. “We knew it could happen. It’s gonna be fine. They’re gonna stop the bleeding and we’ll be back home before you know it.”

She nodded too. It seemed important to nod.

“April.” she said when she realized her daughter was wailing at the top of her lungs upstairs.

“I will take care of her.” Katniss promised. “Don’t worry.”

“No.” she said and then waved her hand. “I mean I know, I just… I want to… Would you fetch her for me?”

“Oh, sure.” The girl ran upstairs and came back down with the crying baby awkwardly trapped in her arms. Snowball started barking, never happy when April was upset…

Effie snatched her from Katniss’ arms and held her close, rocking and humming, peppering her with kisses… She calmed down quickly enough but she kept on kissing her, breathing her smell in even if she badly needed a diaper change, committing her warmth to memory…   

“Don’t you _fucking_ dare say goodbye to that child.” Haymitch muttered, coiling his hand around their daughter’s ankle. “Don’t you _fucking_ dare, Effie.”

She tried to tell him it wasn’t what she was doing but… But it _was_ and…

She buried her face in April’s neck and held her tight, never wanting to let go. When someone knocked on the front door, she almost started hyperventilating at the mere thought of _maybe_ never seeing her again.

“I love you.” she murmured against April’s blond hair. The baby was crying again, Snowball was growling and barking… “Mama loves you. Mama loves you.”

“Mama’s coming back.” Haymitch said firmly, stealing their daughter from her arms so the man and the woman Katniss had let in could take care of her. “Mama is _fucking_ coming back.”

It wasn’t long before she was wrapped in her coat, scarf, gloves and hat and helped to the car. Haymitch never left her side but she barely noticed. She strained her neck as long as she could, the last image she had of her home was Katniss crouching to keep the dog from running after the car, a baby in a bumblebee sweater in her left arm.

“It’s gonna be fine.” Haymitch promised as they left the Victors’ Village behind.

It wasn’t fine.

A stretcher was waiting for her at the clinic’s entrance along with Doctor Larcher and she was rolled inside in front of everyone. She could hear the whispers and could almost _taste_ the gossip that the bad weather would barely slow down. She gave answers to questions she didn’t really hear. White walls flashed by. The smell of antiseptics. The panic that was bubbling in her stomach.

She barely reacted at all when they rolled her in an examination room and a nurse asked Haymitch to stay outside. She barely heard the fight that exploded in the hallway.

“Effie?” Larcher insisted, squeezing her shoulder hard enough that she looked up at him, confused as to what was going on. “Effie, I know this is all very stressful to you but the ultrasound shows some fetal distress so I _really_ need you to relax as much as you can. Do you understand me?”

She couldn’t even shake her head.

Nothing made sense.

Nothing at all.

The doctor didn’t press the point.

She was vaguely aware that there were a lot of people moving around her, telling each other things, following orders… Suddenly there was a dip hooked to her elbow and maybe other stuff…

She wasn’t sure.

She had been hurt, hadn’t she?

In the cells.

Yes, she had been hurt.

And Haymitch had said… Haymitch had said it was over now, hadn’t he? She couldn’t remember.

People were running around her bed.

They kept running until they slowed down and she decided maybe there was no more emergency now. Maybe she was dead. Or maybe they had decided she wasn’t worth the trouble. A doctor had _definitely_ said that at one point. That she wasn’t worth the trouble. But someone else had retorted she was VIP, that she was on an important list and that there would be hell to pay if they let her die. They didn’t like her. They didn’t like her because she was an escort. It was funny because before that her guards hadn’t liked her because she was a traitor.

There was no winning.

No winning.

“Sweetheart.”

She blinked and turned her head, startled to find Haymitch sitting there, holding her hand. How long had he been there? She didn’t know. There was only him. No more people running around. Just him and the familiar feel of his fingers cradling hers.

She was lying in a bed and she could tell she was wearing one of those paper gowns. The sheets were scratchy and not quite warm enough despite the heavy blanket that had been thrown on her feet.

“You’re back with me?” he asked slowly.

She frowned, pondering that question. “Was I gone?”

He chuckled but it wasn’t amused at all. “Can you tell me _when_ we are?”

_War_ , she wanted to say but the words died on her tongue when she felt something roll inside her. She closed her eyes. Not something, no. _Someone_. Haymitch’s thumb was gently running up and down her hand. _April,_ she thought but no. Not April either. _Aidan_.

“Twelve. With you.” The familiar words rolled off her tongue but the third one came out a question rather than an affirmation. “Safe?”

He didn’t answer immediately. “They stopped the bleeding.”

She studied him. He looked completely haggard. His eyes were reddish and the fingers that were holding hers were shaking.

“The baby?” she whispered. Aidan was alright. He _had_ to be because she could _feel_ him.

“He’s fine now.” he said. She frowned and he sighed. “It was touch and go for a while. It took them a while to get the bleeding under control. There was talk of a C-section at some point.”

“But it is too early!” she protested.

“That’s why Larcher did all he could to keep him inside.” he snorted, rubbing his face with his free hand. “Even if I threatened to punch him…”

“Oh, Haymitch…” she whispered.

“They wouldn’t let me in the room.” he growled defensively. “And then you were completely lost inside your mind and…” He shook his head, his voice breaking a little. “I thought I was losing you.” She squeezed his fingers hard, prompting him to look up at her. He forced a small smirk that looked very empty. “You won’t like it but they’re gonna keep you here for now.”

“I am three months and a half away from term.” she countered, panicking at the very thought of… “I cannot stay here for so long. I…”

“Not for that long.” he cut her off. “But… Yeah, Larcher said it would probably be for more than a week. It was… They could take care of it this time but he thinks it’s gonna happen again and… It’s better if they can get it early. They just want to make sure you and the baby are alright, yeah? And the baby… The baby’s not ready to be out yet so… You need to take it easy.”

“How long exactly?” she whispered. “Did he say how long I have to stay?”

He shook his head. “Until he’s sure it’s safe.” He winced a little. “Look, it’s not that bad. They say they can get a cot in there so I can stay with you and…”

“No.” she cut him off firmly before she could let herself be tempted by the offer. “You need to go home and take care of April.”

“The kids have her.” he said. He was torn, that was plain to see. “I called to check an hour ago. Peeta’s home now, they say they were thrilled to have a sleepover so…”

“Haymitch.” she murmured softly. “She needs her father.”

“She needs her mother too.” he snapped.

“So let’s not deprive her of both.” she replied. “You can… you can bring her to visit, yes?”

“Yeah.” he promised. “Every day. And… I’m gonna bring you some stuff, yeah? Larcher said I could. Some pajamas and comfortable clothes. And your beauty stuff so you can keep busy. Can do your nails or… I’m gonna bring you your stuff.”

“That sounds good.” She made an effort to smile but her eyes were burning and there was a lump in her throat. It sounded like she was there for a longer stay than he wanted to admit.

“Right?” he said in a bright voice that was so _fake_ it hurt to hear. “We can decorate too. Make it less… hospital like. And I’m staying tonight.” She opened her mouth to protest but he lifted a hand before she could say anything. “April’s good and I… I need to be with you, okay? So I’m staying. End of discussion.” She didn’t want to fight him on that because she didn’t want to be alone in the first place so she nodded. A tear spilled and he cupped her cheek, brushing it off with his thumb. “It’s gonna be fine. _We_ ’re gonna be fine. It’s just a bad thing to go through, yeah? Then, at the end of it, we’ve got a baby and it’s gonna be the two of us against four kids.”

She chuckled, coiling her fingers around his wrist to keep his hand in place. “How did _that_ happen?”

“The _fuck_ if I know.” he snorted.

“Language.” she chided him in a desperate attempt at normalcy. “Was it my fault? I… I wasn’t tired but I think I drank too much tea. And I danced a little in the kitchen because… I was happy and the music was catchy and… I swayed a little to the music and…”

“It’s no one’s fault.” he cut her off. “It’s _no one’s_ fault, sweetheart.”

She wasn’t sure that was right but she nodded all the same because she didn’t want to linger on all the ways she could be responsible for this. The karma reasons alone..

“Okay.” she whispered in a small voice. “Do you think… Do you think you could call Mother?”

“You want your mother to come?” he frowned.

There would be so much fussing. And complaining. Two winters spent in Twelve in two years might be a little too much for Elindra Trinket. And _all the fussing and complaining_ there would be… Besides, did she trust Elindra to help out with April? Aside from the fact her mother wasn’t exactly skilled at taking care of babies without the practical help of a nanny… The Capitol influence alone…

But when the thing with Clay had happened, she had been good at… Well, Haymitch had been hanging by a thread and Elindra had been good at keeping everyone… _together_. Effie was very much like her in that regard, wasn’t she? Good in a time of crisis. Granted they had very different ways of dealing with difficult situations – comforting never came easily to her mother – but…

“I don’t know.” she shrugged. “She needs to know if nothing else. If she wants to come… Do not ask her to but if she wants to come…”

“Okay.” he said. “Anything you want, you get, princess.” 

A small smile graced her lips at that and she tugged on his hand a little, wriggling to the side of the bed. She realized it wasn’t just the drip though and she was careful not to disrupt anything. There was a blood bag and some monitors…

Still, Haymitch got the hint and climbed on the narrow bed, settling on his side to take up as little room as possible. He held her as close as he could, her pregnant stomach was a little difficult to manage.

“You should not offer things like that.” she teased. “What if I declare I want a bigger house.”

“I’ll buy you one.” he dismissed before frowning. “You want a bigger house?”

“No.” she smiled, letting her head fall on his shoulder. “But I would not mind a new swing seat for the porch.”

“Done.” he promised, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. “What else?”

“Do not think I do not know you are trying to lull me to sleep.” she mumbled.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” he countered innocently. His voice was a rumble under her ear and it was too good a sound.

Between the petting of her hair and the hand that was gently rubbing her baby bump, she drifted off quickly, falling asleep mid-list of ridiculous demands she didn’t really want. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooops? ;) Let me know your thoughts!


	59. 9 Months & 24 Weeks (2)

It was a little past six in the morning when Haymitch came home the following morning and the sky was barely pinkish. It was still snowing but the wind had died down which had made the trip easier than it would have been the day before. It was freezing though and the whole time it had taken him to paddle through snow from the clinic to the Village all he had been able to think about was how it was no weather for April to be outside and how he was supposed to bring her to Effie like he had promised.

The night had been difficult. She had woken up several times, completely disoriented and asking him if she was safe, if they had found her at last. It helped when the baby moved, it helped her remember when they were but… It hadn’t been a good night and he didn’t see the next few weeks being any better. He had kissed her goodbye that morning – and then he had kissed her pregnant stomach – and he had said he would be back as soon as possible but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to divide his time between home and hospital when all he wanted to do was cling to her hand, wrap both her and the baby in a protective embrace and make sure nothing ever happened to either of them.

Snowball came rushing as soon as he let himself into the house, whining in pleasure at seeing him. Aside for the dog’s enthusiastic greeting, it was silent save for the familiar hum of the fridge in the distance and Haymitch was quiet as he took the time to pet the dog properly before letting him out in the yard for a little while. The way Snowball was wriggling, he could tell the kids hadn’t let him out long enough the previous night.

He was careful not to make any noise as he discarded coat, scarf, gloves and boots, avoiding the creaking floorboards when he made his way to the living-room. He smirked when he spotted the kids asleep on the couch. Peeta was sitting, his head at an awkward angle the boy would deeply regret when he would wake up, his lap full of Katniss’ legs. The girl was curled up on her side under the throw away blanket they kept on the back of the couch, her hand wrapped tightly around the baby monitor. There were soft chirping coming from there that told him April was up and about but the kids must have been too exhausted to be alarmed by that.

The fire had died down to embers but it was warm enough that he didn’t risk waking them up to stroke it. He slipped upstairs instead, going straight to April’s room and turning the monitor off before his voice alerted the kids.

“Hey there, shrimp…” he smirked at his daughter. April was sitting in her crib, her tiny hands gripping the bars tight. She let out a sharp happy cry in answer, immediately letting go of the bar to lift her arms in that grabby motion that meant she wanted something, in full gibberish mode. He didn’t make her wait for it, scooping her up and pressing a long kiss to her head. “Mama sends a thousand of those.” he told her seriously, peppering her with small kisses. Nobody was there to see, after all. And even then, he wasn’t sure it would have stopped him.

He changed her diaper and switched the purple pajama the kids had dressed her in for a pink one that was warmer. After a moment of hesitation, he rummaged in the dresser and picked out clothes that should do it for the weather. He should have thought of telling Katniss what was warm enough the previous evening when he had called. He didn’t know if he would spend the night at the clinic again. Effie had said she didn’t want him to neglect April and he would have liked it better if everyone could have been in the same place but… He couldn’t force April to live at the hospital and he didn’t like the thought of Effie being alone either.

“Mama’s coming home soon.” he promised their daughter firmly. “She just needs to rest for a while in a special place, then she’s coming home. She misses you so _fucking_ much…” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell her I said _fucking_ or she’s gonna have my balls.” April let out something that sounded very much like _bow_ and Haymitch winced. “Yeah, no. Not that one either.”

He fished her pacifier from the crib and plopped it in her mouth, letting her snuggle against his shoulder with her cat ragdoll. He gave a longing look to his bedroom when he exited her room, wondering if he would have time to grab a quick shower before packing Effie’s stuff. Hospitals made him feel gross out, like his skin was crawling. He blamed the war and the hours he had spent at Katniss’ bedside, watching her float in a tank that made her burned skin peel.

There was stuff to do before that though and he went back downstairs, avoiding the living-room area to let the kids sleep a little longer. He closed the kitchen door behind him and filled Snowball’s plate before letting the dog back in – he had long perfected the art of doing all of that one-handed. April was calm, apparently content to remain in his arms, and it was early still so he didn’t try to feed her just yet.

Of course, despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t help a shake of the head and a smirk when she outstretched both arms in the dog’s direction with a happy “ _Bow!”_. She was a bit put out when he told her she needed to let the dog eat in peace.

He sighed and grabbed the phone. Some chores were better done quick. Like ripping off a bandage.

He waited for the call to dial, resting his head against April’s when she pressed her face and her ragdoll against his neck with a loud breath. She smelt like baby sleep and it made him smile.

“ _Trinket residence_.” a voice finally answered.

He was thrown for a moment because he didn’t recognize Tadius’ voice and then realized they rarely if ever answered the phone themselves. This was the butler. “Yeah. Can I speak to Elindra?”

There was a clearly offended pause. “Mrs Trinket _is not up yet. May I ask who…”_

_“_ Wake her up.” he snapped, irritated. He glanced at the clock, made the math and wince when it dawned on him it was actually _very_ early in the city. He had probably dragged that man out of bed. “Tell her it’s Haymitch.”

_“I do not think…”_ the butler retorted haughtily.

“Look, I need to speak to someone right now.” he cut her off. “If you can’t get Elindra, then get me Tadius. Or… Or even Lyssa.”

Lyssa was still living with her parents, wasn’t she?

“ _Mrs Flavershym is not home at the moment.”_ the butler declared, after clearing his throat. Right, Haymitch thought, because she had that boyfriend of hers and she was probably… “ _I will see if Mrs Trinket is amendable to answering the phone.”_

“Just tell her it’s Haymitch.” he grumbled.

It took a few long minutes for someone to pick up the phone again.

_“This is an_ ungodly _hour and no time for civilized people to call each other.”_ Elindra’s voice snapped without even a hello. _“I_ dearly _hope this is an emergency and not some sort of prank because…”_

“Effie’s in the hospital. That’s emergency enough for you?” he spat.

She was silent for a moment. Then he heard an odd shushing of fabric as if she had flopped down on a chair. _“What happened? What is wrong? How is she? Is it the baby?”_

He summed up the situation, trying not to alarm her too much but stressing the seriousness of the situation all the same. By the time he was done talking, April had taken to grabbing his chin, forcing him to strain his neck to avoid her grabby fingers. “Papa’s talking, sweetheart.” She let out an annoyed impatient sound around her pacifier. Obviously he wasn’t paying her enough attention.

“ _Is that April?”_ Elindra asked but before he could answer she exploded. _“If you were_ both _aware of her condition,_ why _was I not told before? And why_ in Panem _did you_ not _bring her to the Capitol? Truly, Haymitch, I understand your grievances but when it comes to…”_

“You think I don’t want my wife to be as safe as possible?” he cut her off in a growl. “I told her I would take her to the city. She didn’t want to go.” He shook his head. “Look, that’s not the point.”

“ _And what,_ pray tell, _is the point aside from my daughter keeping something that huge from me.”_ she hissed.

“She didn’t want to worry you.” he sighed. “We’ve been doing enough worrying ourselves.”

There was a huffing sound. _“She is alright now, though, isn’t she? You said…”_

“The bleeding stopped.” he confirmed. “And they’re keeping a close eye on her.”

_“She must hate being in a clinic.”_ Elindra observed. _“Wasn’t it the reason she insisted on a home delivery last time?”_

“Yeah.” he confirmed, rubbing his face with the hand that held the phone. “She’s not… She’s not doing great. And they’re gonna keep her for a couple of weeks. Maybe more. Didn’t tell her that ‘cause… I don’t want her to freak out too much.” He adjusted his grip on April because his arm was getting tired. “Even if they send her home… She’s gonna be stuck in bed or on the couch until labor starts. She’s not gonna like that either.”

_“I see_.” Elindra remarked. _“Does she have a phone in her room? I could call perhaps and…”_

“You’re not coming?” he frowned.

There was a long awkward silence.

_“Coming?”_ she repeated. “ _You said the situation was under control.”_

“Yeah but…” He stopped, not quite sure how to word it. He _really_ didn’t want Elindra in Twelve. He had learned to tolerate her but, truth be told, the further away she remained, the happier he was.

_“She did not tell me she had a condition before and now the situation is stable…”_ Elindra declared awkwardly. _“Short of finding a way of shipping her_ here _, I do not see what you want me to do. Clearly, if she had wanted me there, she would have told me. I have a lot of social engagements and…”_

“Look, she’s your daughter and she’s terrified right now.” he cut her off. “She said I shouldn’t ask you, that if you wanted to it was fine but that I _shouldn’t_ _ask_. And now I get why. She didn’t want you to reject her again for your _social engagements_.” 

_“I did not…”_ she protested.

“She wants you here, alright?” he scowled. “You want to be in her life or not? ‘Cause I meant it when I said I was done picking her up after you had let her down. She needs you. You figure out if you wanna be her mother or not and when you’re done figuring that out, you do something about it.”

He slammed the phone back on its cradle and it made a satisfying bang that he hoped didn’t mean he had broken yet again another phone.

“Your grandma is the worst woman I’ve ever met.” he muttered to April. “And I’ve met a few horrible people.” His daughter looked back at him with bright blue eyes and he sighed. “You’re hungry, princess? You want breakfast?”

He took the time to feed her, his eyes guiltily darting to the clock every two minutes. Of course that day was the day April chose to be difficult and he ended up with half the apple compote on his shirt. He was giving the shrimp his best _stop now, I’m serious_ look when Katniss paddled in the kitchen, yawning, making a beeline for the coffee machine he hadn’t even turned on.

The moment the smell hit him, though, he craved one.

“How’s Effie?” the girl asked, fishing milk from the fridge and rummaging around the cupboards for the cocoa powder.

“She’s… Effie.” he shrugged somberly. Effie would pretend to be alright even on her deathbed. “I came back for some stuff and… I told her I would bring April but with all that snow…”

She peered outside through the window over the sink and made a face. “Maybe we can bring her later if it lifts up a little.”

“Maybe.” he sighed. He didn’t like the thought of how disappointed she would be when he would come back missing one baby. “You don’t mind watching her again?”

“Peeta’s staying home today.” she told him. “We’ll get everything sorted, don’t worry.”

“Morning.” Peeta greeted as he came in, immediately grabbing a cup of coffee. After a look at Haymitch’s empty hands – aside from apple compote – he brought him one too. “How’s Effie doing?”

There was a lump in his throat suddenly. There they were, those two kids who, by all rights, should have held a grudge against him and Effie both and they were… They were _so worried_ when Effie’s actual relatives couldn’t care less.

“Being too _fabulous_ for that hospital to hold her.” Katniss joked, pouring the hot milk in her mug and stirring the resulting hot cocoa. She joined him and the boy at the table, poking April’s arm on her way. The baby didn’t like that and retorted with annoyed gibberish. He had a suspicion that the moment she would learn actual words, there would be no shutting her up. “I was telling Haymitch we can babysit as long as he needs.”

“Sure.” Peeta nodded at once. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” he said. And if his voice was a little strangled, the children were good enough not to mention it. He cleared his throat and wiped his daughter’s mouth with a bib that would need to go directly to the laundry. Which reminded him he probably _really_ needed to do the laundry. Well, that was a problem for later. “I’m gonna pack a bag for Effie…”

“Grab a shower too.” Katniss said flatly. “You stink.”

He made a face. “Always so charming, sweetheart.”

She made a face of her own and Peeta chuckled, reaching out to lift April up and settle her on his lap. Trusting his daughter would be alright, Haymitch stood up and would have left the room if the phone hadn’t rung at that moment.

“Yeah.” he answered warily, worried it would be the hospital or…

_“Haymitch?”_ Tadius asked. _“Elindra told me what happened and… Yes, Lyssa, I will ask him, give me a second. Hello? Haymitch? The reception isn’t good.”_

The line was sizzling, which told him snow had piled up somewhere and that it was likely they would face a blackout if the Mayor didn’t get on top of the problem.

“I don’t have time to chat, Tadius.” he retorted, not quite as warmly as usual. He liked the guy, he _did_. But he couldn’t deal with their constant letting Effie down. “I need to go back to the hospital…”

“ _I understand but I would like to know how serious it is.”_ Effie’s father insisted. _“Elindra said the situation was resolved but you do not keep someone in a hospital when a situation is resolved.”_

He opened his mouth to snap at the Capitol and then thought better of it. Tadius hadn’t done anything warranting his ire. _Yet_. “She’s okay for now. Stable. The bleeding stopped, the baby’s okay… But if she starts bleeding again it could be serious. She could end up delivering early, that sort of things.”

Before the baby could survive out of her womb. And she could also bleed out. That was a distinct possibility. He rubbed his eyes with a shaky hand, trying hard not to focus on _that_. It was by far easier to think about other things.

_“I see…”_ Tadius whispered, his voice slightly distorted. Given how serious the man sounded, Haymitch thought maybe he _did_ see _. “I…”_ Effie’s father’s voice was replaced by a younger female one. _“What is going on, Haymitch? Mother is looking at train schedules…”_

“Took her long enough.” he spat.

_“Do I need to come too?”_ Lyssa asked.

_No_ , was what he wanted to answer. One Trinket on the loose in his house was enough. But then he glanced at the kids who had dark bags under their eyes and who were doing their best to entertain April while pretending not to eavesdrop and he thought better of it.

He didn’t like it. He _really_ didn’t like it. But Effie had said she wouldn’t mind a visit so it might cheer her up and it had the benefits of doubling the number of potential babysitters. He wouldn’t trust Elindra alone with his child but Lyssa… Lyssa had two boys and she had managed to keep them alive so far which, given the war, wasn’t a small feat.

“Effie would like it…” he hesitated. “And I guess… I guess we could use the help.”

_“Done.”_ Lyssa declared. _“Is there a_ real _emergency or can we take the time to pack and plan? If you think we should come right away we will take the first train and you can expect us sometimes tomorrow morning but if you think we have time I think it would be best to take a train tomorrow so you should expect us the day after that. The boys can stay with Father but I need to check the nannies schedules and...”_

“The day after tomorrow’s fine.” he cut her off before she could talk him through the whole list.

There seemed to be a small disagreement on the other end of the line regarding Tadius’ involvement in the whole thing but Haymitch eventually cut in to say his goodbyes before hanging up. 

“Are we being invaded by Trinkets again?” Katniss sulked.

“Seems like it.” he mumbled, continuing on his way out of the room only to pause when his eyes fell on a book abandoned on the dresser. _‘A History Of Victors And Tributes_ , _Vol I. Texts by Katniss Everdeen and Haymitch Abernathy. Illustrations by Peeta Mellark.’_ He looked back at Katniss who flushed. He went on his way without a word, not able to _care_ about that for now.

After what must have been the quickest shower in history, he started filling Effie’s suitcase, picking up things only to place them back down, not sure what she would like him to bring her. Her beauty things were a given and he was surprised to find he knew what she used every day from having watched her go through her routine countless times. He made sure to pack the cream for stretch marks but the clothes were the real kicker. He didn’t know what she would fit into anymore and he wanted her to be comfortable. He ended up taking things a little at random, adding a few of his shirts in there just because he knew it comforted her to wear his clothes sometimes.

It was difficult to leave April behind even if the kids promised they would bring her if the weather cleared.

It was even more difficult to face Effie once he was back in her hospital room without their child.

“You were right.” she said sadly once he had told her it was too cold outside. “It is fine. Perhaps tomorrow.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he forced a smirk and place a hand on her stomach. The mood was too melancholic for his taste. “You wanna bet on what April’s first word is gonna be? My money’s on _balls_.”

She pursed her lips. “If you have been vulgar around our daughter again…”

She ranted and ranted until his smirk became genuine because…

Well it was good to hear her rant like that.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the Trinkets are coming! Are you ready? Let me know your thoughts!


	60. 9 Months & 24 Weeks (3)

Being trapped in a hospital room was doing nothing for her state of mind.

Effie knew the door wasn’t locked. She knew she was free to go – as stupid as _that_ would have been – the medical staff was all very sympathetic to her problems and actually very nice… But it didn’t help with the feelings of being trapped. It had been three days and she didn’t know how she was going to bear it much longer.

The window might have helped if the sky hadn’t been so grey and unforgiving. Snowflakes carried by the wind sometimes crashed against the glass, making her despair to see her daughter again anytime soon. Electricity had given in the previous night and she had done her best not to panic because there had been people worse off than her in the clinic.

She supposed that was why Haymitch was late. He had been dutiful in showing up at dawn and leaving at dusk. She didn’t like the fact he was leaving April so much but she was also grateful for his presence. He made it easier to bear the endless days.

The door opened without any knocking and she sat up in her bed, beaming because only Haymitch would be so rude. And his head did poke around the frame but he didn’t step in immediately.

“Hello, Princess.” he smirked, eyes twinkling. “Got a few surprises for you.”

“I hope it involves some of Peeta’s cupcakes.” she laughed.

“That comes later with the boy himself.” he promised and then pushed the door all the way in, revealing the bundle strapped to his chest.

“April!” she exclaimed, her eyes immediately filling with tears, her heart soaring in her chest. She opened her arms and barely noticed anything else than the little girl in the pink coat. Her daughter let out a sharp cry of something that sounded like _ah-ah_ and wriggled until Haymitch placed her on her lap, chuckling at the obvious impatience on both part. Effie lost no time in embracing her and peppering her with kisses. “Oh, I missed you so badly, darling! _So_ badly… Mama missed you _so much_.”

Haymitch dropped the diaper bag he had been carrying on a chair and plucked the woolen hat off the baby’s head. April, it seemed, had a lot to tell because she kept babbling non-stop, reaching out to snatch her scarf back when her father tried to take it away from around her neck. Effie nodded at whatever the shrimp was saying, grinning all the while like a maniac, unzipping the coat and helping the little arms out of it.

She was wearing the most _darling_ blue and red striped dress underneath, over a darker shade of blue woolen tights.

“This is new.” she observed with a frown.

“Surprise number two.” he declared. “Ready?” She was puzzled but nodded all the same, barely refraining from telling him nothing could be better than holding her daughter again. “Come in!”

And in they swirled, almost making her dizzy with the speed and energy with which they whirled around her bed. She laughed when she saw her mother and her sister, awkwardly returning Lyssa’s hug with the baby and her stomach in the way, and squeezing her mother’s fingers when Elindra grabbed her hand in greeting.

“Oh, this is the most wonderful surprise!” she exclaimed in delight.

“Well, we could _not_ let Haymitch fend for himself.” Lyssa declared with a teasing smile for Twelve’s victor. “Why, if you had _seen_ the _state_ of your house…”

“We were supposed to arrive yesterday but there was a snowstorm and we were stuck in Six for _hours_.” Elindra cut in with a wrinkled nose. “Truly, the traveling conditions between Twelve and the Capitol are _appalling_.”

“I am sorry you had a difficult journey.” Effie winced, wrapping her arms around her daughter again, just because she could. “But I am _very_ happy to see you.”

“That’s the main thing, I suppose.” her mother softened, looking around the room in distaste. “This _won’t_ do. If you are to be stuck in this room for the foreseeable future, we will _need_ to decorate.”

“We will add some colors.” Lyssa suggested. “You _always_ loved colors.”

Her mother and sister debated the matter at lengths – what they could bring to lighten up the room and cheer her up – and Effie looked at Haymitch who was leaning against the wall, forgotten by the two women. He stared back at her with carefully hidden worry and a good deal of fondness. Had they decided to come by themselves or had he requested it of them despite the fact he could barely bear their company on a good day?

He rolled his eyes behind their backs to convey their chatter was both annoying and ridiculous and she found herself chuckling, turning her attention back to April who seemed puzzled by the tube that led in the crook of her elbow and had decided to investigate by tugging on it.

It was impossible to dwell with Elindra and Lyssa in the room. They never ran out of gossip about people Effie hadn’t thought about in years – and yet she was still interested in every scandalous detail – they were loud and took so much space they managed to chase the ghosts away. When they left around noon to go back to the house for lunch and some rest because the trip had been exhausting, the silence following their departure seemed twice as suffocating as before they had arrived.

Haymitch finally stopped lurking in the corner of the room where he had settled with a book to drop on the chair next to the bed.

“They _never_ shut up?” he complained, stealing a cube from April who was very busy building… _something_ on Effie’s legs. It warranted him a frown from their daughter and a reproachful _ah-ah_. “ _P_ a _p_ a, sweetheart. Try _p_ a _p_ a.”

“Do _not_ train her during my absence.” Effie chided as the shrimp dutifully tried to repeat the sound. “What about _m_ a _m_ a? _Mmm_. Try _mmm_.”

April scowled in concentration but given the smell that followed it had little to do with her speech abilities.

“We’re gonna have to start potty training her soon.” Haymitch commented as he lifted her up to change the diaper. “She’s growing up so fast…”

“You will have other diapers to change soon.” she chuckled, rubbing her round stomach. “We should never have nicknamed him jellyfish. I feel like he has a hundred feet and that every single one of them likes kicking me.”

Haymitch soon plopped April back on her lap to try and follow the kicking with his hand.

It was a good day, all in all, but the night was terrible.

She woke up screaming from a nightmare, couldn’t remember where she was, tried to fight the hands that wanted to bring he back to her bed… She was howling and struggling by the time strong hands framed her face and repeated the same words again and again. _You’re in Twelve. You’re safe. You’re with me. Breathe. You’re in Twelve. You’re safe. You’re with me._

It took ten minutes before she could get her breathing back under control and the Peacekeepers’ torture chamber faded into her hospital room. One of the nurses had a bleeding nose and Haymitch was wearing his pajamas under an open coat, his nose and the tip of his ears red with cold. It was so obvious they had called him in the middle of the night and he had rushed straight there… She started crying again, apologizing again and again until he gathered her in his arms with a sigh and begged her to calm down for the baby’s sake.

“I want to go home.” she pleaded several times as another nurse checked her blood pressure and rolled an ultrasound machine in the room. “Please, take me home. Just… Just take me home.”

“It’s gonna be alright.” he promised.

“Mrs Abernathy, you really need to relax.” the nurse told her gently, spreading the cold gel on her stomach. “It’s not good for the baby.”

She buried her face in Haymitch’s shoulder and silently cried until she heard the familiar sound of Aidan’s heartbeat. She shifted so she could see the screen, stare at the shape of her child and remember why this was all worth it. Haymitch was petting her hair in what was supposed to be a soothing fashion but she could feel his tension.

“It’s a bit fast, yeah?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

The heartbeat, he meant, Effie figured as she watched her baby roll one way and then the other on the screen. She could feel him do that in her belly. She could feel the kicks and…

“Your wife’s heart rate is fast, he’s answering in kind.” the nurse explained. “Her anxiety is triggering his. Babies are like sponges, this way.”

“I don’t want to hurt my baby.” Effie whispered, instinctively wrapping her arms around her stomach.

She was so upset and still a little disoriented that it took a good half hour before they had her settled down again, her arms clean of the gel she had accidentally put all over herself, her nightgown switched for a clean one and her sheets changed for some that weren’t damp with cold sweat. Haymitch remained next to her through it all, whispering in a tired hoarse voice until she finally eventually fell asleep in his arms.

She wasn’t feeling much better when she woke up.

She had asked him four times where they were – and above all _when_ – by the time Peeta showed up with a bag of clothes for him. It was better when the baby was moving but when Aidan was sleeping… When Aidan was sleeping the fact that she was pregnant slipped her mind. She was back _there_ again, right after her rescue when nothing had felt real and…

“Effie.” Haymitch’s tired tone brought her out of her daze once more.

He was dressed now, in brown pants and a navy blue sweater. Peeta was gone. She didn’t remember him leaving.

“I am sorry.” she apologized because she knew she was being a burden. She knew she should have dealt with the situation better. She knew it had been almost four years now and…

“Not your fault.” he denied. “It’s okay. Just try to stick with me, yeah? You need to stay calm.”

Because when she had a panic attack, she put her baby at risk.

She forced a smile and nodded, faking interest in the first tv show she found on the hospital TV.

Eventually, her mother and Lyssandra invaded the room again, albeit with less energy than the previous day. They seemed strangely… subdued and Effie didn’t miss the look that passed between Haymitch and her mother. She didn’t pay it any attention though. She only had eyes for the little girl in Lyssa’s arms.

“What’s this, my darling?” she asked her daughter who was carrying a stuffed dog almost as big as her.

“ _Bow_!” April exclaimed with obvious delight as she thrust the dog in her mother’s hands. “ _Bow! Bow!_ ”

Effie inspected the toy, smiling when she realized it was an almost perfect replica of their dog. “Snowball?”

“ _Bow!”_ the little girl confirmed, apparently happy that someone had _finally_ understood her.

She snatched the stuffed dog from Effie and cuddled in again to Lyssa’s obvious amusement.

“As soon as I saw it I knew I had to buy it for my favorite niece.” her sister grinned. “She hasn’t let go of it since I gave it to her.”

“You spoil her.” Effie answered but she didn’t sound very reproachful. “That dress is new too.”

“I see her _so_ rarely, I am _allowed_ to spoil my granddaughter, I trust.” Elindra cut in, stepping around Haymitch’s chair and briefly placing her hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home for a bit, Haymitch? We will stay with Euphemia. You can get some proper sleep.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea right now.”

Because she was still unstable, Effie understood.

She didn’t protest. As much as she wanted Haymitch to rest and be well… She needed him there, with her.

He reached for April and lifted her up to walk closer to the window, cuddling with her for a while with his back to the rest of them – mainly because he was talking to her in a soft voice, greeting her properly for the first time that day, and humoring her when she showed him her stuffed dog and insisted that he was _bow_.

“I’d rather have her calling him _balls_ than _snow_.” he stated when Elindra lamented that this particular term might be her first word.

Having the room full of people distracted her for a while, all the more so when Katniss and Peeta stopped by with a plate of strawberry cupcakes. The children fussed over her so much that she made an effort to look the part for them, pretending everything was fine, humoring Peeta when he asked if he could touch her stomach…

When they were told by a nurse that visiting hours were over, Effie’s throat closed in terror. Letting April go in Katniss’ arms was the most difficult thing and it broke her heart when her baby started wailing for _ah-ah_.

“Go.” Haymitch instructed, his face closed, not in any less affected.

Effie frowned. “You should…”

“I’m staying.” he cut her off harshly. “It’s not working otherwise. I’m staying.”

He was curt with her because of April’s tears, she realized that, but she still felt terribly guilty.

Even with him in the room, she had a nightmare. She managed to avoid the panic attack this time around but it was a close thing.

The next day, her mother and her sister made it their mission to turn her hospital room into something a little more festive. Eileen stopped by with her favorite hot chocolate for her and a pumpkin latte for Haymitch. She left when the children arrived.

It was all so timey that Effie suspected they had worked it out beforehand.

“When can we go home?” she asked Haymitch a few days later during a moment when they were blissfully alone with April in the room, her family having begged out to go fetch some more paintings to hang around the room. She thought she had been there for over a week now and Larcher told her every day that they needed to keep monitoring her but she was also certain he and Haymitch were keeping things from her not to stress her out.

They had celebrated April’s tenth month the previous day and it killed her to force the girl to spend all her days in a clinic in fear of missing out on her progresses. Every evening someone dragged her away from the room kicking and wailing and calling for her parents and every morning she came back, waving excitedly at them like Elindra had apparently taught her. She stood up more and more by herself too and Effie was terrified of missing her first steps or her first words or her first _anything_.

She kept telling Haymitch he should go home and be with their daughter more but he refused to leave her alone. Her next argument was usually that they should allow her to leave.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” he replied tiredly.

“How soon, then?” she insisted. “Did they tell you? I haven’t bled in more than a week…”

Haymitch hesitated and then sighed. “They think it might happen again and it’s better if they can catch it quick.”

She pouted but dropped it.

She lost count of the days, stuck in a new routine consisting of hospital schedules, visits, cards being sent from Four and more colorful clutter being added to her room. She not only had paintings but garlands now and flowers. She didn’t know where they found the flowers in the dead of winter but her Father sent a new bunch of them every couple of days to the point her room ended up looking like a garden and the nurses had asked Haymitch to clear almost all of them out.

One afternoon when Effie was walking around the room under the vigilant eye of a nurse because she couldn’t bear to be lying down any longer – not with the aches in her back and her muscles going soft from doing nothing – April surprised them all.

The girl had been sitting on the bed that Haymitch had commandeered for himself when Effie had stood up – his own back hurting him from nights spent crammed in the narrow space between his wife and the edge of the mattress – playing with her stuffed dog and her ragdoll. Haymitch didn’t seem to care that their daughter was sitting next to his hip and very much using his stomach as a playfield for her stuffed animals, he had an arm tossed over his eyes and was trying to get some much needed rest – Effie didn’t think he had really slept since she had been in the clinic.

Katniss was standing near the window, staring outside with obvious longing, restless like she always got when she spent too long without hunting. Peeta was in the armchair, quietly skimming the book Haymitch was currently reading – which made Effie wondered if they had talked about Katniss’ book yet or if it had been forgotten in the disaster.

Effie was following the nurse’s instructions, mindful not to overdo it and making sure the pole with the dip followed her around, wishing the ache would disappear and that she would stop feeling… She felt _swollen_. Her ankles, her legs, even her face felt swollen. The baby kept moving, she couldn’t really get comfortable anymore… She was so focused on how much in discomfort she was that she hadn’t been paying attention to the shrimp who had clearly been trying to tell her something about her stuffed toys.

“Mama!”

The whole room froze.

Katniss turned around, Peeta’s head snapped up, Haymitch’s arm was quickly removed as he propped himself on his elbow to stare at their daughter…

Effie whirled around toward her, tears of joy burning her eyes… The feeling it gave her… It was beyond words.

April had hauled herself to her feet though and even if Haymitch’s hands immediately shot to the girl’s waist to steady her, standing up on the mattress was too precautious for Effie’s taste. She rushed to her daughter who had outstretched her arms.

“Mama!” she insisted in an imperative tone.

She ignored the numeral calls for her to be careful as she picked April up. At that moment she felt invincible. She forgot all about the aches and the discomfort.

“Mama is so proud of you!” she beamed at her child, rubbing her nose against her daughter’s. “ _So_ proud.”

She was so focused on the shrimp she didn’t realize Haymitch had stood up until she felt his arms sneak around them both, not so subtly supporting the baby’s weight.

“I’m proud of both of you if anyone cares.” he snorted and then nuzzled their daughter’s neck to make her laugh. “Good job, shrimp. Real good job. Now we can pretend you weren’t calling the dog before you called either of us. ‘Cause, you know, not embarrassing at all to come after Snowball.”

“Bow!” April answered cheerfully, tugging on her mother’s shirt. “Mama Bow!”

“Yes, darling, I will come and see Snowball very soon.” she promised, her good mood fading. “You will just have to take very good care of him in the meantime. You will tell him I miss my pretty baby very much.”

“Might be a mouthful for a kid who just learned to say mama, sweetheart.” Haymitch teased, pressing a kiss against her cheek.

She pouted but leaned against him all the same. “I _do_ miss my dog. And my house. I want to get out of here, Haymitch.”

“I know.” he sighed. “I know…”

Getting out of there, however, clearly wasn’t in the foreseeable future.

And it was driving her crazy.

It was mostly alright when there were people around but after three weeks trapped in that room, even _that_ wasn’t enough to keep the dark clouds at bay. She lost a few drops of blood at one point and it sent everyone in an uproar and her in the pit of despair.

They would _never_ release her. She could see it plain as day on the apologetic face of Doctor Larcher. He kept telling her it was temporary but she had the sick feeling they would keep her until the end, one way or another.

Every day there were tests.

Every two days they had an ultrasound.

The more time passed, the more agitated the whispered conversations in the corridor between Larcher and Haymitch became.

Her father came and went for a few days but she barely realized it, trapped in a daze. Even April’s _mamas_ weren’t cheering her up anymore. She drifted. Her mind kept circling back in loops, playing tricks on her mind… She lost entire afternoons in a blink and it terrified her not to remember what had happened when she _knew_ she had been awake but trapped in the recesses of her mind.

Lyssandra went missing and when she asked her mother about it one morning, Elindra frowned and told her that Lyssa had to go back home to check on her children but had promised to come back very soon, that her sister had told her so herself before leaving. Effie didn’t remember. She pretended she did and let her mother go on brushing her hair. She didn’t miss the look that passed between Elindra and Haymitch though.

“Are you leaving?” she asked Elindra a little later, cutting her mother off in the middle of a rant about why Twelve should really invest in better pavements because she had almost twisted her ankle twice on the way over.

Haymitch stirred where he had been napping in the armchair, his neck crammed at an odd angle. Effie wasn’t sure where April was, with the children probably. It was cold that day, her mother had complained, a little too cold to bring the baby over so early.

Elindra took a hard look at Twelve’s sleeping victor and then cleared her throat. “Why would I? Why, your District is… _charming_ at this time of year. Spring is almost there, do you know?” Was it? She wasn’t sure what the date was. She wasn’t sure how long she had been there. More than a month for sure. “Do you want me to leave?”

The question was uncertain and Effie found herself shaking her head at once. Her mother was still brisk and harsh with her judgments but having her there reassured her.

Haymitch looked… Haymitch looked _terrible_. He barely left the clinic – briefly in the mornings to get some air when someone else was there to keep her company and sometimes in the evenings to read a goodnight story to April – barely left her side and she knew trying to keep her from relapsing in her intrusive memories was exhausting. She _tried,_ honestly she did, but she couldn’t help it.

The children looked equally rattled. Peeta had bags under his eyes and Katniss looked perpetually worried. They were the ones who shouldered most of the babysitting duties, she had figured. Making sure April didn’t feel abandoned by both parents was the priority for everyone but it demanded a lot of work.

Her mother was steadfast in the middle of the storm. She was worried too, Effie could see it, but Elindra channeled it in her need to take charge. And take charge, she did. Even Haymitch had long surrendered, seemingly almost _grateful_ for her taking over when he couldn’t bear reminding Effie again that she was in Twelve, safe and pregnant with their child.

“Haymitch, you need to rest.” Elindra kept rebuking him on a daily basis.

He ignored her just like he ignored everyone else.

His whole focus was on Effie.

“You should go home tomorrow.” Effie whispered one night, their entwined hands pressed against the side of her stomach. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t get comfortable and since the bed was now too narrow for the two of them, Haymitch had started sleeping in the armchair that he had pushed as close to the bed as he could.

“Sick of me already?” he muttered.

“You are exhausted.” she observed.

“So are you.” he countered. “I put that baby in you, I’m _fucking_ gonna stay with you while you deal with this _shit_.”

She waited for a heartbeat and then studied him in the dark. “Do you blame him? The baby?”

“Not his fault.” he said immediately. “Not yours either. Just…” He sighed. “Just wish things could be easier. You know?”

“I know.” she confirmed. “You really _do_ need to take some time off though. You are worrying me.”

He brought their hands to his lips. She didn’t mention the tremors that had been steadily getting worse.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. You just worry about getting better.” he replied. “I’m good.”

He _wasn’t_ good.

It became more and more glaring in the following days, to the point she even spaced out less because she was too busy watching him. She even discreetly begged Katniss to get him out of there but the girl shook her head, looking sorry, and told her she had tried everything she could.

His skin was ashen, his eyes perpetually bloodshot, his hands were shaking so badly he sometimes struggled to pick things up… One morning, he failed to lift April up, his strength betraying him. He spent the whole day slumped in the armchair, answering Effie with monosyllabic comments and snapping at Elindra and the children when they tried to make him see reason. The nurses clucked their tongues at him and offered him the use of a bed in another room if only he would lie down and rest properly. They brought a cot that he simply glared at.

“Too far from her.” he mumbled at Elindra when she hissed at him to get a grip because he was being _outrageously_ ridiculous. “Might need me.”

Effie felt guilty. Oh, _so_ guilty. It upset her so badly that her blood pressure skyrocketed and it warranted her a lecture from the nurse.

When Larcher showed up that evening for his daily check, he made a beeline for him instead of asking how she felt like he did every day.

“This isn’t serious, Haymitch.” the doctor rebuked like he had done every day for the past week but instead of letting it go when he waved him off this time, Larcher pressed his stethoscope against his heart. “This has gone too far. I don’t care what you have to say…”

“Don’t feel good.” Haymitch slurred. His face looked grey and he was breathing in and out in short puffs.

“Haymitch?” Effie called, sitting straighter.

“Now, Effie, please remain calm.” Larcher tossed over his shoulder. “If not for the baby, then for him. You know he frets when you’re upset.” And he _did_ so Effie pursed her lips tight and hugged herself, waiting while Larcher examined him. “Alright, I know you won’t like this but this is for your own good. I can only admire how dedicated you are to your family but you are putting your health at risk. You are completely exhausted, you body is shutting down, do you understand me?”

“Stay with Effie.” Haymitch muttered.

“No. You are _not_.” the doctor sighed. “Not tonight at least. I am going to admit you for the night. Some rest and…”

“No. You’re not taking her away from me again!” Haymitch growled, sounding incoherent. He stood up, pushing the doctor away with more strength than the man had suspected he had. “I’ve got to protect her! I’ve got to…”

“Haymitch!” she screamed a second before it happened.

He took two unsteady steps and then he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

She tried to get out of bed but by the time she managed to untangle herself from the sheets, a nurse was by her side, urging her remain where she was while another helped Larcher take care of him.

After what felt like eternity but couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, the doctor looked up at her. “He is alright, Effie. He just overdid it. He will be fine. It’s just a fainting spell.”

“Please, help him.” she begged.

“Of course.” Larcher said. “Get back in bed, please. You are upset, I understand, but you have to…”

“Think about the baby.” she finished, her hands protectively cradling the bump.

“Do you want me to call someone else?” the nurse asked once they had rolled Haymitch away on a gurney, Larcher following close behind. “Will you be alright on your own?”

Her night terrors were an impossible secret to keep from the staff but while the nurses and doctors had mocked and taunted her after her rescue, in the clinic they were all willing to help, to make her comfortable. She wasn’t sure if it was pity or just concern over her pregnancy but she was grateful for the lack of gibes and judgment.

She desperately wanted to say that she was a grown woman who could handle spending a whole night on her own but she knew better. She also knew she wouldn’t force one of the children to hold her hand while she screamed her head off at imaginary ghosts.

“Could you call my mother, please?” she whispered, not sure this was the best idea but desperate enough to try.

Elindra had never been sympathetic to nightmares before and she had never believed in treating her daughters like children – even when they had _still_ been children – but it was the best of a bad situation.

It took a while for her mother to get there, her make-up impeccable and her green wig glued to her head.

“I knew this would happen!” Elindra claimed as soon as she placed her overnight bag on the armchair, eying the cot that had originally been laid out for Haymitch with distaste. “I have been warning him for _weeks_. Now, do not fret, Euphemia, I just had a talk with the doctor and he will recover just fine. He is a little dehydrated and they had to sedate him to prevent him from rushing right back as soon as he woke up but he _will_ recover just fine. In a couple of days he will be as good as new.”

She burst into tears.

She wanted to blame the hormones but she knew it was the whole thing. Being trapped in there, the memories it brought back, the uncertainty that her baby would be alright in the end, the fact that she had forced Haymitch to push himself past exhaustion…

“Now, now, dear!” her mother winced, perching herself on the edge of the mattress and patting her hand. “No need for this. Dry me those tears. Chin up, smile on… Now, do you want to hear the most precious story? Your daughter tried to ride the dog. Not very ladylike, of course… But truly it was too funny. We got it all on camera for you so you could watch it when you come out. Needless to say the dog did not take kindly to it. I wonder if she would like a pony…”

She laughed through her tears, the picture too enticing. “You cannot buy her a pony, Mother.”

“Now you sound like your husband.” Elindra huffed, moving her hand to the baby bump. “How is this little one doing, then?” 

“He is well.” she whispered. “Kicking my bladder every two minutes.”

“An unsavory detail.” her mother clicked her tongue.

Effie smiled but it soon faded as she started fiddling with her wedding ring. “Do you _swear_ Haymitch is alright? He did not have a heart attack or a stroke or…”

“Swearing does not become a lady.” Elindra chided but then her voice softened a little and it occurred to Effie that for how formidable she always looked, her mother was tired too. Everyone was tired. Haymitch, her mother, the children… And all because of her. “Your husband is _fine_ , I promise. He just happens to be a stubborn idiot.” Her mother shook her head a little. “I thought I had seen the lengths he was ready to go for you last year when that nasty business with that man happened…” Mentioning Clay wasn’t the best idea at the moment and Effie swallowed hard, fighting the instinctive urge to think about it. “But _truly_ … I am _not_ easily impressed, as you know, and I _still_ think it is a shame he does not have a better… _pedigree_ but… He is a good man, that much I believe now. _Devoted_. Few husbands in the Capitol would do half of what he has gone through for you in the last few weeks.”

“I have been telling you for years.” she pointed out.

“And I just admitted you were right.” Elindra retorted. “Rubbing someone’s nose in their mistake is rude, Euphemia.”

She smiled and shuffled a little down the bed to find a more comfortable position, groaning when another kick hit. She hummed softly, rubbing her stomach, hoping to calm the jellyfish.

“I am sorry I am such a burden.” she whispered eventually, not looking her mother in the eyes.

“You are _not_ and _never_ have been a _burden_.” Elindra retorted in a snappish angry tone that Effie thought was mostly directed at herself. “You have _issues_. Who does not? After what you have been through…” Her mother licked her lips and waved a dismissive hand. “It will all be fine in the end, you will see.”

Effie studied her for a long moment and then grabbed her hand. “You know why Doctor Larcher won’t let me go home, don’t you? Haymitch won’t tell me but _you_ know.”

Her mother pursed her lips in an annoyed pout. “Haymitch thinks it will be too much for you to handle.”

“I would rather know.” she insisted. “Is my baby alright?”

“The child is growing quite nicely.” Elindra confirmed with a small nod. “But there are concerns your placenta won’t hold.”

“I could lose him.” she murmured in a flat voice, her hand stroking her bump. Except she _couldn’t_. She _couldn’t_.

“The goal is to keep him in your womb for as long as possible.” her mother explained. “Twenty-nine weeks is apparently enough for the baby to survive on his own but they hope to bring you to thirty-seven to avoid any complication. Or more, if possible. As I understand it, the longer before they have to trigger labor, the better. ”

“And they will trigger labor if…” she frowned.

“If you start losing too much blood and they cannot stop it.” Elindra answered. “Or if your placenta gives and early labor begins.”

She nodded, taking deep breaths to remain calm.

It was better to know, she told herself. A lot better.

She was at twenty-nine weeks now. Six months and a half. She understood why Haymitch and Larcher had been so vague about her possible return home now. It would be another month and a half probably, maybe more.

But close monitoring was what her baby needed and so that was Aidan would get.

“Aren’t you desperate to go back to the city?” she asked her mother because Elindra had yet to complain about that and she had been there far longer than ever before.

“I am desperate to see you through this safely.” her mother dismissed. “Besides, you will forgive me for saying so, but I think your victors need an escort in your absence. I am happy to fill in for you.”

“You drive them crazy.” Effie confessed. She wasn’t sure what was making her be so direct with her mother when she usually was so formal but maybe there was something to discussing important matters late at night in a hospital room.

“And thus they forget to drive themselves crazy with worry.” Elindra smiled smugly.

Effie chuckled because that was a tactic she had used often enough on the children. Being just ridiculously flamboyant and annoying enough that they would focus on being irritated with her instead of worrying about everything else.

“You will take care of them, won’t you?” she requested in a small slightly frightened voice. “If…”

“Do not even dare _think_ about finishing this sentence.” Elindra snapped. “I _refuse_ to entertain the thought. You will deliver a healthy baby boy, you will get better and go home to your other children, adopted and otherwise, and I will be at liberty to go back to my _wonderful_ city where hot water does _not_ run out in the shower.”

Effie laughed but her amusement was short-lived. “Haymitch does not know when to quit. I need him to be alright.”

“I called in reinforcements.” her mother deadpanned. “He won’t know what hits him.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed her mother’s hand, truly glad that they had managed to mend their relationship. Although it had never been that good so perhaps it had never been about repairing it. Perhaps it had always been about building one.

“Thank you, Mother.” she offered, her voice raw. “For everything.”

Elindra’s smile was clipped to better hide her emotion.

“I know I am not the most adept when it comes to expressing my feelings…” her mother declared slowly, tucking a blond stand of hair behind her ear. “But I _do_ love you, Effie.”

And this, right there, was the only thing she had ever wanted her mother to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter! Hope you enjoyed this long chapter! Let me know your thoughts!


	61. 10 Months & 29 Weeks

Haymitch woke up to the sound of a familiar prattling. He felt so good… He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that good and he smiled before he even opened his eyes, certain that he was in his bedroom and that April had somehow ended up in their bed.

“Look at that, kiddo.” a familiar voice sneered. “Sleeping Beauty awakes.”

Johanna Mason had no business being in his bedroom and he opened his eyes wide, attempting to sit up in a panic, scared that the last few years had been nothing but a drunk delirium. It had happened back in the days: dreams so good they felt real. They were worse than any nightmare when he woke up in the Games clinic with whoever had appointed themselves his guardian.

“Easy, you idiot.” Seven’s victor frowned, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding his daughter steady on her lap. “You’re gonna tear the needle out.”

He looked down at the back of his hand where a needle was indeed embedded deep beneath his skin, kept in place by a white band-aid. He looked down at himself, not happy to find he was wearing a hospital gown. “The _fuck_ happened?”

“Dada!” April cut in before Jo could explain and his grey darted down to the shrimp, his heart missing a beat at how it felt to hear that word. All those years and he had never thought he would ever hear it, experience _that_ for himself… It took his breath away. “Dada! Dada! Dada!” She struggled until Jo placed her on the bed and she wasn’t happy until she was sitting astride his chest with her stuffed toys. “Dada.”

The proud smile stretched his lips so hard it almost hurt. “Morning, shrimp.”

“Dada.” his girl said again, clearly eager to share her new word.

“More like _afternoon_.” Jo grumbled. “Effie’s been training her. She can’t quit saying it now. Can’t get the _p_ right though.”

Johanna’s words registered and he frowned. “What do you mean she’s been training her? How long have I been asleep? What the _fuck_ was I asleep for? And what are _you_ doing here?”

“Uck.” April repeated as if it was a fun game of playing parrots, letting herself fall on her stomach so she could cuddle against his chest.

“No. Really _bad_ word.” he panicked. There would be _hell_ to pay for that. “ _Really_ bad. We don’t say that. Mama’s gonna have my balls on a plate if she hears you say that.”

“Mama?” April’s little head shot up as if she expected her mother to be around. When she didn’t find her, she scowled. “Bow.” she pouted even more, grabbing the stuffed dog that was almost too big for her but which she had dragged everywhere with her since Lyssa had given it to her. “Dada bow!”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” he smiled, taking the toy from her since he was clearly allowed to borrow it. Someone had tied her blond hair in pigtails and she looked absolutely too cute. He gently tugged on one of them, watching her hide her face under the cat ragdoll only to snatch it away. It was apparently an hilarious game and it brought a smile to his lips. “So, April, what is Aunt Jo doing here?”

“Aunt Jo came to kick your ass.” Johanna snorted. “’Cause apparently you need a keeper.”

He shook his head. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

“Fine.” she sighed. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You fainted. They had to sedate you so you would get some rest, they rehydrated you and stuffed you with antibiotics ‘cause apparently your immune system was about to give. Not clever given your medical history. Your mother-in-law called me.”

It took a second for everything to sink in. “ _Elindra_ called _you_.”

“Oh, _yeah_ …” Jo snickered. “She said she couldn’t deal with both you and Effie at once and she needed someone who wouldn’t actually _mind_ knocking you out if necessary.” It sounded like Elindra and he rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around April while he kicked the thin sheets down so he could swing his legs off the bed. Johanna wasn’t pleased with that. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“How’s Effie?” he asked. “How long was I out? She’s not okay in here. It’s too much and…”

“You’ve been out for three days and she’s been doing just fine with the rest of us.” she cut him off, pushing him back into bed and tugging the sheets back in place. He was alarmed to realize he didn’t have the physical strength to warn her off. “Now, stop being stupid or the two of you will end up in a double room. Effie made it clear I was allowed to kick you in the balls if you try to leave the bed before the doctor clears you so I suggest you stay where you are and be a good boy.”

He glared at her. “I need to see my wife. You don’t _get_ it. She…”

“She is doing _okay_. The baby is _fine_.” she told him. “Her mother’s with her and when Katniss’s done walking the dog, she’ll come sit with you so I can save her from Capitol stupidity and her mother can stop pretending she actually cares about Twelve’s gossip.”

Haymitch made a face, annoyed because she wasn’t _getting_ it. “She’s spacing out in this place. She keeps lapsing. She needs me. She doesn’t know…”

“Yeah, I know.” she interrupted again. “But she knows she’s safe with me. We have each other’s back, she and I.”

“Nights…” he insisted.

“I’ve been sleeping with her at nights.” Jo snapped. “Sorry to burst your bubble but we’re doing just fine when you’re not trying to kill yourself to win the husband of the year trophy. I _swear_ , Haymitch, you go back to her room the state you’re in, she’s gonna _strangle_ you. She wants you to rest.” He opened his mouth to argue but she shot him a glare. “ _You_ ’ve made it worse. Now she feels guilty about what she’s putting you through, which upsets her even more, so, _shut up_ , relax, get some rest and when you don’t look like you’re going to keel over any second you go back to her.”

April curled up against him, eyeing Johanna with open mistrust, not quite used to people raising their voice at him. He petted her hair distractedly, lips pursed, and then turned his face away from Seven’s victor.

“Thank you for coming.” he mumbled eventually.

“That’s what family’s for, no?” she retorted almost like a challenge. Then she softened. “Your kid missed you.”

He held his daughter tighter. “So not fair to you, shrimp…”

She had been forced to compose with her parents not being there for her full time for weeks and she had mostly been a trooper about it. He knew he had been overreacting, that Effie could have managed with someone else for one night, that he could have taken some time off… But the idea that he might lose her was unbearable and it was driving him to extremes. He knew April was safe with Peeta and Katniss so _he_ needed to keep _Effie_ safe.

As much as he could, at least, which wasn’t a lot given the circumstances.

“I can’t lose her.” he heard himself confess out loud.

He would never have said as much to Katniss and Peeta. They were too close, too young, too much their responsibility…

Johanna was a different matter. Johanna was the last friend he had from a time now long gone.

“And you think she can lose you?” she sneered. “You think any of _us_ can lose you? Think again. And stop being so _fucking_ stupid.”

“Uck!” April repeated proudly, sitting up to poke him in the stomach with her ragdoll.

He sighed and grabbed the ragdoll only to be assaulted with a stuffed dog. “Mama’s gonna kill me when she hears you say that. Just so you know.”

Johanna snickered but was good enough to accept the change in subject. He played with his daughter for a while until he started drifting off again, April snuggled against his side. When he woke up again, Jo and the shrimp were gone but Katniss was slouched in the chair Seven’s victor had previously occupied, her feet on the bed.

She glared at him as soon as she saw he had opened his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah…” he mumbled. “Seems to be the general opinion.”

The good thing with Katniss was that they never really needed to talk and aside from the nurse who intruded now and then, they spent the next couple of hours mostly in silence.

“How’s the book thing going?” he asked as she was about to leave. He had never found a good moment to address that particular subject and while he wasn’t sure he really wanted to go on that turf at all, he felt the need to… clear the air.

“Good. It sold out.” Katniss offered with an ill-at-ease shrug. “Plutarch says they’re gonna print more.” He gave a non-committing nod and she cleared her throat. “Do you remember Atelais? She was a tribute in…”

“Sixty-seventh.” he mumbled. He remembered because she was the one who had caught him and Effie kissing in the dining-room late one night.   

“Yeah.” she confirmed awkwardly. “Her mother wrote me a letter to thank me. She says she’s glad her daughter wasn’t forgotten.”

“Then, maybe it was worth it after all.” he admitted.

“She also asked me to tell you…” she hesitated. “She says she hopes everything goes well for you, for the baby.”

His jaw clenched. All Panem knew Effie had been admitted in the hospital weeks earlier, it wasn’t the sort of things they could hide. He owned Plutarch a favor now because the Secretary of Communication had made it clear the paparazzi would be unwelcomed in Twelve at the moment. It was the only way they could have a semblance of privacy.

The first week of Effie’s stay at the clinic…

He was glad he had been able to keep that particular problem from her. None of them could come and go between the hospital and the Village without being assaulted by flashes and a thousand questions. Not even their daughter. He had protected her face from the cameras as much as he had been able, they all had, but the press had gotten a few good shots of her.

And that had _enraged_ him. Still did.

“Jo says she’s doing okay.” It wasn’t a question but it wasn’t a statement either. Katniss wouldn’t lie. Not to him. Not like the others would have in a need to protect him.

“She’s not… _great_.” the girl winced. “But between Jo and her mother, she’s alright. We never leave her alone but Peeta and I are more on April duty than Effie duty.”

“It’s better like this.” he approved. “She doesn’t like losing it in front of you kids. Makes her feel embarrassed.”

“And it’s probably better not to leave April with that woman too much.” Katniss snorted. “She’s taught her how to wave like a lady.”

The girl made an imitation of the wave in question and it was so queenly and ridiculous that Haymitch found himself laughing along with her. It went a long way in dispersing the tense atmosphere that had lingered between them.

He wasn’t discharged until the next morning with a strong warning from Larcher that if he didn’t take better care of himself, he would make sure Haymitch wasn’t allowed to stay the night anymore and was forced to adhere to the visiting hours everyone else stuck to.

He showed up in Effie’s room with a sheepish look.

“Dada!” April squealed, lifting both arms in the air as soon as she saw him. Elindra handed the girl over with a clearly disapproving pout for his reckless behavior and declared she would go get some coffee.

He nuzzled his daughter’s neck as he crossed the distance to the bed on which Effie was sitting, wearing one of his shirts and looking even more disapproving that her mother. She _rocked_ the disappointed wife/mother look, he had already noticed. He couldn’t wait to watch her lead their children in guilt trips over their inevitable misbehaving.

“I know. I know.” he grumbled, leaning in to peck her lips. She responded to that kiss but barely. “I’m an idiot.”

“ _That,_ you are.” she huffed. “No more, Haymitch. You are going home for more than ten minutes every day from now on. You will get sleep, proper meals and some time away from this place. It is not because _I_ am stuck here that you should be too…” He tried to protest but she lifted a hand. “Johanna is staying a few more days and she doesn’t mind spending the nights with me. When she leaves, you and Mother can take turns.”

“You want your mother to spend the night with you?” he snorted in disbelief.

“She already did a couple of times.” she told him. “It is not… It is not _ideal_ but it works well enough.” She seemed to deliberate for a second and then sighed. “She also told me everything. You _should_ have warned me they wanted to keep me until I give birth and told me _why_.”

He placed April down on the floor where someone had left her cubes, not bothering to hide his scowl. “She wasn’t supposed to…”

“I am a grown woman.” she snapped. “Yes, I am your wife but it does not mean you are entitled to make decisions about my own body, health and mind. I deserved to know how serious the situation was.”

“Just wanted to protect you.” he spat, not quite sure who he was angry at anymore. She had a point, of course, and he had known it from the start but all he had been able to think about was that he needed to keep her from getting too anxious and… He sighed and rubbed his face. “Can’t do anything right without you, see? I _fuck_ everything up.”

“Uck!” April joyfully exclaim. _How_ _timey_.

Effie glared and he shrugged innocently. “Too much time with Aunt Jo.”

“To be sure.” she deadpanned, clearly not believing a word of it. She shook her head, reaching out to him.

He took her hand gratefully and sat on the edge of the mattress, his empty palm automatically seeking her belly. “Hello, jellyfish. Papa’s here.”

“And Papa will rub Mama’s back because he has been a very naughty boy and her back is killing her.” she declared, shuffling forward so he had enough space to slid behind her. She didn’t need to ask twice.

“Don’t say things like that… Gets me hot.” he teased, pressing an open kiss at the base of her nape, relishing in the shiver that ran down her spine.

“Your daughter is in the room.” she reminded him.

“Spoil joy.” he accused without heat, applying pressure on the usual spots that got her to relax.

The noises she let out weren’t helping him get his mind out of the gutter but it seemed to relieve her a little. She had her eyes closed and her head tilted to the side to give him better access to her shoulder – the one that had been hurt and that was still troubling her when it was particularly cold.

Massaging her back was more an instinctive thing than something he had to focus on, so his attention wandered. He was keeping an eye on April too because she was piling cubes high and the tower was swaying dangerously.

As expected, it collapsed and the girl let out a sound of utter frustration that he had heard Effie make quite a few times when things refused to go the way she wanted them.

Effie chuckled as their daughter started grabbing the wayward cubes around her to start on the tower again. She was gently rubbing her stomach with both hands over the stretched fabric of his shirt. “I am less big than I was for her.”

“You complained every day about how big you were when you were pregnant with her.” he pointed out, letting go of her shoulders to wrap his arms around her – still bigger than usual – frame, leaning his cheek against her nape so he could keep April in his line of sight. “Now you’re gonna complain you’re not big enough?”

“I am not complaining.” she denied with an irritated huff. “Why must you be so contradicting? I do _not_ know why I missed you so much.”

He smirked and dropped a brief kiss on her shoulder, prompting her to relax her weight against him. “Might have missed you a little too, you know.”

“I _hardly_ doubt it. According to the children, you were snoring all the while.” she taunted.

“Yeah, well, you try… Effie, look!” he nudged her arm, sitting straighter, watching as April pushed herself to her feet, helping herself with the edge of the bed, her eyes focused on a cube that had fallen out of the way. He heard Effie hold her breath as their daughter swayed a little… He wanted to bolt for her in case she fell but knew that if he caught her attention she would forget about the cube and just drop the whole… April took an unsteady step forward and Effie choked on a sob. “That’s my girl!” he beamed. The shrimp took two more steps but didn’t seem to know how to brake and thus ended up falling forward.

He extricated himself from behind Effie to scoop April up and he held her close to his chest, rubbing her back as she cried her fright out.

“You did so well, my darling!” Effie praised, tears of pride rolling down her cheeks. “ _So well!_ Oh, I _wished_ I had a camera…”

He carried April back to the bed where she eventually calmed down, framed by Effie’s pregnant stomach and his reassuring presence at her side. She clutched her stuffed elephant to her chest – the stuffed dog had apparently not been invited that day although the ragdoll was on Effie’s bedside table – and sucked on her thumb until Haymitch fetched the pacifier for her.

She was still hiding her face against the soft fur of the toy, though peeking up reproachfully every time they stopped praising her and tell her how beautiful and smart she was, when Elindra came back in the room with two cups of steaming coffee and a hot chocolate branded with the Clarkes’ logo.

“What in Panem is going on here?” the Capitol asked, clearly puzzled by the way Haymitch and Effie were laughing like idiots at their daughter’s antics.

“We are just happy to be all back together, Mother.” Effie offered.

Elindra huffed, clearly not sold on the lack of decorum, but gave them a genuine smile.

“Well, it is _certainly_ good to have the family all back together.” the woman admitted. “ _Even_ if some of us are too stubborn for their own good.”

“Come on…” Haymitch taunted. “You know you’re starting to _like_ me. I’m wearing you down.”

Elindra pursed her lips, eyeing him up and down behind her fake eyelashes. “You are an idiot.”

Like mother, like daughter.


	62. 10 Months & 31 Weeks

“You know.” Haymitch snorted sleepily. “Babies are supposed to keep you up once they’re born, not before.”

“Tell that to your son.” Effie countered, squeezing his hand by reflex when a small foot hit… _whatever it was_ again.

She was lying on her side, facing the armchair Haymitch had settled in for the night, studying his features just so her eyes wouldn’t dart to the shadows in the corners of the room. To be fair, it barely resembled a hospital room anymore, decorated as it was, and it had become familiar enough that she didn’t always feel like she was in a strange place when she woke up. But it was still difficult at night to chase the memories away, so much so that she usually only fell asleep around two or three and slept in in the morning. Whoever was with her tended to stay up and distract her until she drifted off and then spend the whole morning at home to nap.

When Johanna had left for Four, eager to get back to her own family, Haymitch and Elindra had started taking turns spending the night at the clinic, occasionally replaced by Peeta if they were really tired. Haymitch was really trying to be a little more sensible, all the more so because it allowed him more time with April.

She still liked it better when it was his turn to spend the night with her though. Elindra usually read fashion magazines or talked her ear off about acquaintances Effie hadn’t seen in years – she wasn’t sure Haymitch realized how high the phone bill would probably be – and while it worked well enough to keep her mind occupied, she loved the easy companionship with her husband better.

“Still kicking?” he mumbled, his grey eyes traveling from her face to her stomach. His head was propped on a cushion he had wedged between his cheek and the back of the armchair.

Aidan didn’t seem to be able to keep still that night.

She hummed in answer, rubbing her side with her free hand. “How is the potty training going?”

That was a part of April’s life she hadn’t been able to be involved in given that it took place at home and while it certainly wasn’t a glamorous one, she felt cheated out of the experience. 

“Not awesome.” he shrugged. “Still a work in progress. Will be some time yet.” He was silent for a moment and then squeezed her hand. “I’ve ordered the furniture you wanted for the nursery. Should be delivered soon.”

“Oh, that’s great!” she beamed but soon sobered up. “I wish I could help…”

“You help by growing our baby.” he reminded her. “Besides… Between the dog and your daughter, I’ve got all the help I need…”

He told her all about the little competition April and Snowball seemed to have going on. Apparently, they were both trying to sneak stuffed toys meant for the baby out of Aidan’s room. It made her chuckle.

“I miss being home.” she whispered.

“I know.” he sighed. “Snowball’s going crazy. Keeps sniffing me all over when I come back and then he whines and refuses to move for hours. He misses you bad.”

“I miss him too.” she pouted. “If I had him to cuddle at night, I would not be so afraid.”

“Yeah, well… Dogs aren’t welcome here and he’s too big to sneak him in.” he shrugged.

Something in his voice gave him away and she frowned. “Did you try?” He winced guiltily and she wasn’t sure if she ought to laugh or be mad. “Haymitch!”

“What?” he grumbled. “He’s all miserable and you want to see him… Really doesn’t see what the big deal is about. He isn’t _dirty_ or whatever.” Laughter won and she muffled her chuckles in her pillow. He smirked, pleased to have amused her. “Katniss has been taking him hunting to keep him busy. He brought a rabbit home, the other day. Your mother wasn’t impressed. Climbed on top of the kitchen’s table and screamed like a banshee. I thought the house was on fire or something…” She couldn’t help but laugh harder at the picture he was depicting, perfectly imaging Elindra perched on the table and Snowball sitting right there, his head tilted to the side, a dreadfully dead rabbit proudly dangling from his mouth. Haymitch’s eyes were twinkling with mirth and she wondered how much of that had been an accident. “Think she’s decided to become a vegetarian now.”

“You are an awful, awful man.” she rebuked, chuckles in her voice.

“Might teach her to mind her own _fucking_ business.” he grumbled.

Effie lifted sympathetic eyebrows. “What did she do?”

He scoffed. “Hope you like blue ‘cause I came back one day and there were new blue curtains in our bedroom. It matches the new rug I never asked for.”

It was probably lucky that with all their self-imposed shifts of _Effie duty_ he and her mother didn’t spend that much time together. They often only met for a few minutes at a time and their conversations revolved around her or April. Haymitch and Elindra were both careful to avoid dangerous topics.

However, her mother was still her mother…

“That is mild.” she commented. “And easily rectified.”

“Sure.” he added. “So you’re _not_ gonna mind that your whole wardrobe’s been reorganized by colors, yeah? ‘Cause I kinda mind her touching my _damn_ underwear.”

“She touched my clothes?” she gasped in alarm. “You did not let her toss anything away, did you? She _will_ if you do not put your foot down! She will claim it is worn out or out of fashion and all my favorite outfits will be gone!”

“Don’t think she tossed anything away, no.” he shrugged. “But I can’t make sense of her system. My stuff’s all in the drawers now. Ain’t sure where she put your lingerie. Everything’s upside down.”

She pursed her lips, not quite happy to hear that. Elindra had been granted the free use of her house for weeks at this point though, so it wasn’t _that_ surprising. She supposed she should consider herself happy if she didn’t find her home completely refurbished when she came back but…

“I will talk to her about…” The rest of her sentence ended in a sharp intake of breath.

“You’re okay?” Haymitch worried, suddenly more alert. He sat up straighter and studied her attentively.

“Yes.” she breathed out slowly. “It was a strong kick, that is all.”

She rubbed her stomach, waiting for the pain to pass, mustering a faint smile when he placed his hand next to hers.

“You’ve gotta stop kicking Mama like this, jellyfish…” he murmured, bringing his face closer to her stomach so the baby could hear him better. “You’re not being really nice to her…” He pressed a quick kiss against the tight fabric of the nightgown she was wearing. “You need to go easy on Mama, Aidan, she’s having a hard time.”

Her smile softened because she loved seeing him like that. It was so rare… Well, perhaps not so rare since April but it still felt _precious_ like something that had been hard-earned.

“You know, I have been thinking…” she hummed.

“You don’t say.” he teased and got his forearm whacked for his trouble.

“We _should_ have a girl name ready.” she finished, preferring not to address his teasing. 

He lifted his eyebrows in surprised. “You’ve been adamant it’s a boy from the start.”

“Yes, but I would rather avoid a repeat of what happened last time.” she argued. “Just in case.”  

“Okay.” he agreed, slouching in the armchair again, a small smirk on his lips. “But for the record, sweetheart, if they get _that_ wrong with all the ultrasounds they’ve been doing, I’m pretty sure we should get the hell out of here and find another clinic.”

He had a point, of course. It was _highly_ unlikely they would be having another girl. However, she had been caught off guard the last time and she wouldn’t let that happen again. “ _Still.”_

“Tell you what…” he teased. “If it’s a girl, you get to choose.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You always _hate_ the names I choose.”

“Yeah, but since I’m pretty sure it’s a boy, I’m gonna take my chances.” he shrugged.

“You are not taking this seriously.” she pouted.

His grey eyes were twinkling in amusement. “You’re so perceptive, Princess.”

“I _truly_ think… _Ow.”_ Her sentence ended in a painful expiration and she grabbed her stomach, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Effie?” Haymitch frowned, worry all over his features. “You’re sure it’s just kicking?”

She took a moment to recover, to make sure the pain was gone, and then she licked her lips.

“No.” she admitted. “This one felt like a contraction.”

He shot out of his armchair in a flash. “I’ll go get a nurse.”

He wasn’t gone long enough for her to completely panic. She _tried_ to keep it together, taking deep calming breaths in and out, but fear was gut-gripping. It wasn’t just the fact that _pain_ in _this_ environment would more likely than not mean that she would lose control of her mind and fall back into her memories. Thirty-one weeks was too soon. Not soon enough that it would be hopeless but _bad_ nonetheless. Her baby would have to go in an incubator and there would be tubes and he would be too small and he would need help breathing and…

“Sweetheart.” Haymitch called right before reentering the room, a nurse hot on his heels. She immediately outstretched a hand that he grabbed and squeezed hard. “It’s okay, sweetheart… I’m right here. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

The nurse had a professional calm and preppy cheerfulness Effie particularly appreciated and she let herself be guided onto her back so she could be examined. Haymitch distracted her all the while by petting her hair. His face was closed and guarded, his features schooled in a blank mask, but she could tell he was afraid too.

Another contraction hit before she could try to comfort him and she closed her eyes and pressed the back of her head against the pillow, waiting for the pain to pass. She remembered this. Being helpless and writhing in pain on a hospital bed while Haymitch sat at her bedside. She remembered thinking it shouldn’t have been that painful to be sewed back together, perhaps more painful than being torn apart.

“You’re safe. You’re in Twelve. You’re with me.” he mumbled automatically without her needing to ask him. “Say it, sweetheart. Where are you?”

“In Twelve. With you.” she repeated dutifully, clinging to that thought with all her might. “Safe…”

She was a bit hesitant about the last part but he leaned in and pressed a short kiss against her lips.

“The good news is your water didn’t break and there is no bleeding.” the nurse declared. “The bad news is that it was definitely a contraction. I’m going to call Doctor Larcher.”

“Is she going to have the baby?” Haymitch asked, his voice betraying his nervousness.

“Not tonight if we can help it.” the woman promised, sounding reassuring. “I will call Doctor Larcher and I’ll be right back.”

“It’s too early.” she whispered once the nurse was gone.

“It’s not the worst odds.” Haymitch countered firmly, shaking his head. “I’ve been doing some reading… Thirty-one weeks is okay. Ninety-five percent survival rate.”

“Ninety- _five_?” she hissed.

“Five babies on a hundred…” he started.

“ _When_ have the odds _ever_ been in _our_ favor, Haymitch?” she snapped, pressing her hands against her round stomach. She wasn’t even _that_ big. The baby was small, smaller than April had been at any rate… “You need to stay inside, Aidan. You need to stay inside for a few more weeks.”

The nurse came back and put her on a drip with a solution that should hopefully calm the contractions, promising the doctor was now awake and on his way over. Effie didn’t think Larcher lived too far from the clinic.

“Tell me about girl names.” Haymitch demanded, one of his hands on her stomach and the other coiling around her wrist.

“Dolly.” she said at once without a second of hesitation. “Short for Dolphrina.”

He blinked and then scoffed. “Over my dead body.”

“You said I could pick it.” she reminded him.

He shook his head. “I take it back.”

“We could always use Lyssandra.” she hummed.

“You wanna name our baby after a sister you can’t stand most of the time.” he snorted.

“I _love_ my sister.” she denied. “And we are doing _much_ better lately. Very well, let’s hear your girl names then.”

“Who is having a girl?” Doctor Larcher frowned, walking in while putting on his white coat.

It was so obvious they had dragged him out of bed that Effie felt a pinch of guilt.

“Us, apparently.” Haymitch taunted – for her benefits, she figured, to keep her focused on something else. “You know, in case you’ve misread the ultrasound again.”

The doctor’s eyes darted from the file he was reading to him for a second. “With all the ultrasounds we’ve been doing, if I had _that_ wrong I think you should consider finding a better doctor.”

Haymitch smirked and nudged her arm. “A point well made, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes. “Doctor, the baby…”

“We are going to wait and see if the solution works.” Larcher declared.

“But…” she tried to argue and bit down on her tongue when pain flared again.

The doctor checked his watch and made a note in his file. “Effie, I know this is all very…”

“Yes, I know.” she hissed through her teeth. She knew that tune by heart now. “I should try to relax.”

“Exactly.” Doctor Larcher nodded with an apologetic wince. He dragged an empty chair on the other side of the bed from Haymitch and sat down.

The next hour was slow going. Effie kept up a conversation because it was the only way to keep the anxiety at bay and she suspected the two men were very aware of that because they humored her. She apologized for having forced the doctor to leave his house in the middle of the night, making a joke about his wife probably not appreciating that only to be horrified at her own blunder when the man told them he was a widower. In all that time, she had never thought to ask. She knew he had children – the youngest was about to graduate high school, apparently – and she had never paused to think about their mother. The war, she sometimes forgot, hadn’t happened _only_ to them.

There were two more contractions and then nothing for more than half an hour.

Eventually, as she was starting to drift off, exhausted by the ordeal and the stress, Larcher quickly examined her – complete with an ultrasound that confirmed that the baby _was_ a boy – and determined they were out of the woods for now but promised to hang around the clinic for the rest of the night just in case. Haymitch walked him back to the door and Effie curled up on her side again, mindful of the needle in the crook of her elbow. Her eyelids drooped despite her will.

“You think we can make it to thirty-seven weeks?” he asked quietly.

There was a small silence on the doctor’s part and then a small sigh. “I think the more time we can get, the better. Thirty-seven weeks is the golden goal but it is likely to happen before that.” Her eyelids were heavy but she forced them open in time to see Haymitch rub his face and Larcher place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We are keeping on top of the situation, Haymitch, there is nothing else we can do right now. Don’t think of the worst case scenario.”

The worst case scenario being her and the baby not surviving, she figured, closing her eyes again.

Haymitch slowly came back toward the bed and dropped on the chair the doctor had vacated, nestling his head near her stomach. She fell asleep to his low whispers to their baby.

She was vaguely aware of nurses waking her up at several points to take her vital signs, of the quiet but steady conversation they exchanged with Haymitch… She was too exhausted to do more than mumble answers to their questions. She didn’t even try to stay awake.

She only woke properly mid-morning when a small hurricane invaded her bedroom in the shape of Katniss and April. She wasn’t sure who kicked the door open – she would have said the girl but their daughter was just as much a likely culprit. Her mother was following close behind and didn’t seem entirely happy with that sort of manners.

“Good morning!” Elindra exclaimed before Haymitch could _shush_ them all – and he tried, with a finger against his lips and a dark glare.

“It’s alright.” she whispered before he could start admonishing them, smiling at the picture of Katniss holding both of April’s hands above her head and helping her walk. It was slow going and more often than not Katniss was forced to pull on the small arms to help the baby keep her balance. “Hello, my darlings!”

April looked up with a happy cry at the sound of her voice. Katniss lifted her up so she could sit on the bed and Effie immediately cuddled her daughter close to her chest, running her fingers in her soft blond hair.

It didn’t escape her notice that Haymitch had grabbed Elindra’s arm and had pulled her to the side or that they were now talking in hushed voices.

Katniss glanced at them and frowned, perching on the edge of Effie’s bed. “Everything’s okay?”

She forced a smile. “We had a little fright last night, nothing to be concerned about.”

“What kind of fright?” the girl insisted, worry lacing her voice.

“Contractions.” Haymitch grumbled, turning away from her mother to come and poke their daughter in the side, prompting her to laugh and wriggle. “Papa doesn’t get cuddles, shrimp?”

“Contractions?” Katniss repeated, searching his eyes. “Is it bad?”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” he mocked with far too much bite.

“Enough, Haymitch. Do not be rude.” she rebuked, patting the girl’s hand. “I am fine, dear.”

“No, you’re _not_.” he argued but, faced with Elindra’s and Effie’s matching pursed lips, he stopped talking. He grabbed April and nuzzled her neck to make her laugh again, walking to the window to look outside.

“My apologies. He is tired.” she sighed. “It was a long night.”

“He is going straight home to rest.” Elindra declared. That was met with a scoff and a “ _Fat chance_ ”. He didn’t even bother turning to face them. Her mother huffed and glared at his back before clearing her throat. “Lyssa was planning to visit this week-end with the boys but… Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until you feel better, yes?”

Effie was torn. She would have loved to see her sister and her nephews but…

“I think it might be better.” she agreed, trying to be reasonable. “I think I need calm.”

“And rest.” Haymitch added.

“You want us to go?” Katniss asked, not unkindly, pressing her hand. “We can come back later this afternoon with Peeta.”

What she wanted to was to enjoy the time with April and Katniss both but, truth be told…

“I could sleep a little more…” she admitted.

“Then, you sleep.” the girl nodded once, as if it was decided. She hopped from the bed and turned to her mentor, hands on her hips. “Haymitch, we’re going home.”

“I’m staying.” he dismissed.

“Do you want me to call Jo back?” Katniss challenged.

Haymitch tossed her a look over his shoulder, more amused than anything. “You think I’m _scared_ of Jo?”

“I do not know if you are scared of Johanna but you should be scared of _me_.” Effie hissed, folding her arms in front of her chest. “We have an agreement, I believe. If you spend the night with me, you go home in the morning.”

“Special circumstances.” he spat. “If you think I’m gonna leave you when…”

“Haymitch, you are being _preposterous_.” Elindra cut in. “You will be twenty minutes away.”

“It’s twenty minutes too far.” he retorted.

“I am fine now.” Effie argued.

“Yeah, _now_.” he growled. “Who’s to say you’re not gonna have contractions again in two hours?”

April was wriggling in his arms and he shifted her to his other side, distractedly pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

“So, that’s your brilliant plan?” Katniss mocked. “You’re going to stay in the clinic all the time until the baby’s born?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he sneered.

“Well, last time you did that you _collapsed_ for a start.” the girl shot back.

“It is _not_ up for discussion anyway.” Elindra scowled in her best authoritative voice. “ _I_ will stay.”

“Listen to me, lady, there’s no _fucking_ way I…” he started.

“You are _distressing_ me.” Effie interrupted him with a pout. He fell silent and stared at her as if she had grown a second head. “I do _not_ want to worry about you. _Please_ , go home, get some rest and then come back. If you stay, I will just worry you will faint again.”

“I didn’t _faint_.” he scowled.

“It _certainly_ looked like fainting to me.” she deadpanned.

“Yeah, well I like _collapse_ better.” he snorted. “A bit more manly.”

“Yes, because protecting your virility is the _prime_ concern here.” she snorted.

“Dada!” April babbled, tugging on his hair to get his attention. She launched in a gibberish monologue that made very little sense to them but seemed really important to her.

“Darling, do you want to go see Snowball?” Effie asked with a sweet smile. “Do you want Papa to take you to play with Snowball?”

April looked at her for a second before her face brightened. “Bowl!” She tugged on Haymitch’s hair harder. “Bowl! Bowl! Bowl!”

He rolled his eyes at Effie’s smug expression.

“ _Fine_.” he relented. “But for the record, using my daughter against me is playing dirty, Princess.” He glared at Elindra. “You call me if she’s got so much as a _fucking_ headache.”

“Uck!” April repeated joyfully, making everyone in the room wince.

He kissed Effie hard before he left, letting her cuddle April for a moment too, and then let Katniss drag him away clearly against his better judgment.

Once alone, Elindra let out a long sigh and settled in the armchair, fishing a manicure set from her purse and setting to work on her nails. “Your husband is impossible, dear. I vow to never complain about mine again.”

“He loves me too much.” she whispered, settling back down to get more sleep, her eyelids already drooping.

“That, he does.” Elindra agreed. “That, he does…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed last week's update! I totally forgot I had a dance competition!
> 
> How did you enjoy this chapter? Some angst but some cute moments too, right? Let me know your thoughts!


	63. 11 Months & 33 Weeks

Haymitch smiled when April burst out laughing. Her happiness was so simple, her joy so pure… It was a balm on old wounds to watch her.

The sound of her laugh had startled the dog and Snowball crawled closer to rest his head on the baby’s lap, making Haymitch smile even harder because, surely enough, April lost all interest in the toy they had been playing with and focused on the fur she could tangle her fingers in.

He leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs in front of him, musing that he was too old to sit on the floor like that even if April’s room had nice comfy rugs.

“Bowl! Bowl!” the baby chirped, patting the dog’s head in a poor imitation of petting. Snowball was a trooper about it though, like always, he rolled on his side and pushed himself even more on her lap to April’s delight.

Trusting that she was safe and entertained, Haymitch let his back touch the floor and stared at the ceiling, trying not to let his mind wander too far. Elindra and the kids were at the clinic to keep Effie company but April had a cold so Haymitch had spent most of the day with her at home. He didn’t want to be away from his child when she was sick – and Effie had _urged_ him to stay with their daughter – but being away from his wife right then was torture. She had had contractions again a couple of days earlier and they had had more difficulties putting a stop to them that time. He was terrified she would go into labor while he wasn’t there.

“Dada!” April called and he turned his head toward her in time to see her nudge Snowball’s head off her lap only to use him to haul herself up.

Haymitch was suddenly more alert, ready to move and catch her if she fell because she seemed really determined to cross the distance between them and she wasn’t steady on her legs yet. She walked well with help but she tended to fall after a few steps on her own. No one could ever say April Abernathy wasn’t an overachiever though because that never stopped her for long. She stared at him hard and then put a foot in front of the other, a determined look on her face. He caught her when she tripped, lifting her in the air over his head to make her laugh some more.

“Good job, Princess.” he praised because she was making progress. He huffed when he felt the heavy weight on his chest, cutting off his breath, and lowered April down to shoot a mild glare to the dog that was now lying across his torso. “You don’t think you’re too big for that?”

“Bowl!” April grinned before sneezing twice.

That was more disgusting than cute and Haymitch stood up to clean her up before she could put sticky stuff on him and the dog both. She had a small temperature, he figured, and he didn’t like it. He carried her to the nursery, Snowball on his heels, changed her nappy without bothering to try and coax her to use the potty – potty-training had been Elindra’s idea and they all thought it was completely unrealistic to expect any result so soon but they humored the Capitol – and flopped down on the rocking-chair, letting her nestle against his chest. She cuddled with her ragdoll and sucked on her pacifier, slowly drifting off when he hummed her favorite lullaby.

Snowball had paddled after them and lied down next to them, going back to his own napping.

His grey eyes roamed around the nursery he had finished earlier that morning, trying to decide if he had forgotten anything and if Effie would like it. He had ordered the furniture she wanted and he had put them together… He had put the baby clothes in the new dresser and had arranged the toys that April had outgrown as well as the ones they had bought in their proper place… There was a stuffed polar bear waiting for Aidan in the crib – he had seen it in on his way to the clinic and he had bought it on a whim because it was cute and soft and he wanted to buy him something special like he had bought April her ragdoll.

He had done his best but he was no Effie Trinket and he didn’t have an eye for details.

Still, he thought the nursery didn’t look that bad. Peeta had painted an entire wall with an aquatic cartoonish theme and it looked nice with the soft glow of the lamps, it looked peaceful.

“You think your brother will like his room, sweetheart?” he asked April. Tiny fingers bunched his shirt in answer and he brushed his own fingers through her hair. “He’s gonna be here before you know it…” he told her. “Hopefully not _too_ soon but…” He shrugged. “Guess he’s impatient to meet you. Who wouldn’t? You’re gonna be the best big sister.”

April didn’t care much for his monologue but she liked listening to the rumble of his voice when she had her ear against his chest and he wasn’t surprised when she fell asleep. He drifted off a bit himself, only startling a while later, not quite sure why.

He had a crick in the neck he rubbed distractedly, noticing that Snowball was nowhere to be seen anymore. He listened to the dull smacking of the rain against the window for a moment, trying to figure out how much time had passed. It was dark outside.

“ _Shit_.” he sighed.

He placed a hand on April’s forehead, reassured to find it wasn’t that warm anymore, and then gently nuzzled and cuddled her until she woke up. She wasn’t exactly happy about that but she had slept longer than was wise already, it would be a pain to get her to go to bed later on.

But that would fall on Elindra or the kids – so more likely on _Peeta_ – because he intended to spend the night at the clinic now that his daughter was better.

The house was strangely silent and he crept down the stairs, holding April protectively closer to his chest. He knew he and the baby weren’t alone in the house, he could _feel_ it like a sixth sense. He would never outgrow his paranoia.

Everything was dark downstairs except for the living-room where the glow of the muted TV tossed shadows on the walls, so he headed there, a bit surprised to find Elindra half-lying on the couch. It was so _undignified_ , it was almost as bad as walking in on her without make-up or a wig that one time. The Capitol didn’t notice him and he had ample time to study her.

They might have been living under the same roof for more than two months now but they had been very good at _avoiding_ each other. They talked about Effie’s health, they coordinated who would stay with her, they discussed April’s immediate needs but aside for that…

Elindra was always unyielding and that suited him really well because it was what he needed right then, someone who could take care of things when he wasn’t there to do it, someone who would remain steadfast in the middle of chaos. The kids were tremendous help but they were spooked by the danger Effie was in, they were hiding it well – from him too – but he could see it plainly: they were scared of losing her. Elindra was good at distracting them from their gloomy thoughts by annoying them to death – a method that wasn’t unlike the ones Effie had used once upon a time. Elindra was also good at irritating _him_ enough that he forgot to worry for a couple of hours, too busy raging against whatever changes she had made in the house without consulting him.

They had never really discussed the phone call that had brought her there, the things he had said – things he _didn’t_ regret because he often thought nobody bothered telling her the truth straight often enough, everyone was scared of that woman, even her own _damn_ family. She had come, though. And he could admit she had been more than helpful.

_And_ she hadn’t dyed the dog pink while his back was turned so that was already something…

Looking at her now, lying on that couch, he was surprised to find she looked _old_. He wasn’t sure of her age, it was hard to tell with Capitols, all the more so when they were so pumped with plastic, but she was such a force of nature – a bit like Effie – that it was difficult to think about her as an old woman most of the time. She was always full of energy, always rebuking someone for something of other, always turning up her nose at everything, always imparting unequivocal opinions nobody had asked for…

He had never seen her looking anything but _proper_ either, seeing her slouched on the couch with her legs stretched in front of her on the cushions was a shock of sort. Her lilac dyed hair was a bit out of place and her make-up was smudged under her eyes. She might have been a bit pale too but it was hard to say in the semi-darkness. She was staring at the TV screen but he didn’t think she was really watching the fashion show airing live, models walked down the catwalk without her even blinking.

Her face was blank, her eyes haunted…

She looked exhausted and despite himself Haymitch felt a bit bad, too aware he had been leaning on her _a lot_ without expressing much gratefulness – because Effie was her daughter and she had hurt her enough in the past that she was due for some redeeming but… This felt a bit too much like walking in on Effie acting like a human being back when he had hated her guts for being a good Capitol drone.

He was debating between clearing his throat and respecting her privacy when April took that decision for him by spitting out her pacifier and protesting in her baby gibberish. She must have been hungry too.

Elindra startled badly and looked up at him guiltily as if he had caught her doing something absolutely reprehensible – like killing someone – instead of just lounging on the couch. She sat up straight and smoothed wrinkles off her skirt, immediately schooling her face in that disdainful expression that hardly left her.

“Oh, you are awake. Good.” she declared after clearing her throat. “I thought you might use the rest so I did not wake you. Katniss should be here soon. She is bringing dinner from what I understood.”

He almost offered her an escape route. Almost. Against his better judgment, he switched the lamps on, uncomfortable in darkness, and asked the question he didn’t really want to ask because hearts to hearts with that woman wasn’t his idea of fun. “Everything’s okay?”

“Yes, yes, naturally.” she dismissed with a brisk wave of her hand. “Is April feeling better?”

Her voice softened when her eyes fell on her granddaughter and Haymitch fought the instinctive response of holding the baby closer – because _Capitols_ looking at _his_ _child_ … He dropped on the couch next to her – which seemed to surprise her and for good reason given that he usually avoided her as much as possible – and handed April over. She settled her on her lap, softening even more when the baby immediately grabbed one of the bangles around her wrist and tried to find a way to take it off so she could play with it.

“She’s good, I think. No more fever.” he shrugged. “How was Effie?”

Elindra closed off again. “She had an episode. Now, she was feeling better when I left so _don’t_ you go rushing out the door. Peeta stayed with her anyway, she would _not_ let him go. She seemed to be under the impression that he would get hurt if she let him out of her sight.”

Haymitch’s immediate reaction was, _of course_ , to want to run to the clinic. It was obvious Effie needed him and he should have been there for her.

“You should have called.” he snapped. “I’d have…”

“You would have brought April out in that weather when she was _already_ sick?” Elindra deadpanned with a huff. “We had it under control, Haymitch. Or rather, _Peeta_ had it under control.”

She sounded dejected and Haymitch was torn between his need to go to Effie at once and…

Elindra and Effie didn’t really look alike, not with all the plastic surgery in the way, but sometimes… Sometimes he caught a glimpse of Effie on her face. In the twitch of her mouth. In the blue of her eyes. And it made it impossible for him to remain _entirely_ uncaring.

“What happened?” he asked, reaching out to tug on April’s sweater because it was riding too high on her tummy and he didn’t want her to be cold.

The Capitol’s gaze never strayed from the child but he could guess at the turmoil in there. She was sitting road straight now and her fingers were shaking a little on April’s waist.

“She was in some pain, I believe.” she explained and, when he straightened, alarmed, she briefly placed a hand on his arm. “It was not contractions or anything serious. Her back is bothering her and she claims her muscles are going soft. She wanted to walk around but the nurse would not let her up for more than a couple of minutes… She was frustrated.”

“Frustrated and in pain.” he winced. “Yeah, that’s not a good mix.”

All the more so at the clinic.

“I would say!” Elindra huffed, shaking her head a little. “She started slipping once the nurse forced her back in bed, I believe. She was not making much sense. I did not understand half of what she was saying… It was not bad at first, she… She came back when I talked to her but then… Then the children arrived and it seemed to make it worse… She started shaking… _Crying_ …” Her fingers tightened on April’s waist as if by reflex. “Peeta was the only one she really _saw_ , I think. She would not let him away from her, she…”

Haymitch cringed because Effie wasn’t going to like having had a flashback in front of the kids. “You’re sure she was okay? If she panicked…”

Panic attacks were something they had been trying to avoid like the plague.

“The boy calmed her down.” she insisted. “She seemed to accept he was alright in the end. She… She had troubles believing that.”

“Yeah, I bet.” he sighed, slouching a little against the back of the couch and waiting for the rebuke about proper bearing that never came. Elindra remained silent. She was staring at April who had grown bored with trying to loosen the bangles and was now trying to reach for her cat ragdoll. Haymitch handed it to her, watching as she rubbed her face with it… He wasn’t sure what he should say, there. It was clear what had happened had upset the Capitol but it wasn’t the first time she saw Effie having a flashback… There had been plenty of times she hadn’t been lucid since she had been at the clinic. “Peeta was hurt during the war.” he explained eventually, even though everyone more or less knew it already. “Effie was there for most of it.”

“Yes, I surmised.” she answered flatly. “They tortured him in front of her.”

It wasn’t really a question.

Haymitch felt the familiar anger bubbling up right under his skin. He closed his eyes, let out a deep breath and rubbed his chin, vaguely musing he should shave soon before the stubble turned into a beard and Effie went on a rant.

“Went both ways.” he offered quietly, his jaw clenched against the picture his imagination was conjuring. He had heard two versions of this, Effie’s and Peeta’s uncertain one. “She protected him with all she’s got. Every time she could take it for him, she did.”

Elindra didn’t comment. Her face was a mask of perfect blankness. She gently nudged the ragdoll away from the baby’s face, stroking April’s cheek, careful not to scratch her with her long painted nail.

“April looks so much like her when she was the same age.” she hummed, a tad wistful. “I will ask Tadius to send pictures. The resemblance is undeniable, truly.”

“Yeah?” he smirked, not quite surprised by that.

April was taking after Effie alright. Her features were delicate and she mimicked her mother’s expressions… He predicted she would break many hearts when she would be older – and he would break _noses_ , he already knew, because no boy would get anywhere near her.

“I did not care much for her then.” Elindra confessed, her voice detached. “I never cared much for babies and toddlers. They are too needy, too _dependent_ , to say nothing of their tendency to be _disgusting_ … I was happy to let the nannies take care of the girls until I could actually _do something_ to shape them into the ladies they ought to have become…” She paused but didn’t glance at him and Haymitch swallowed back the few chosen words he had for that way of thinking. “I found myself more interested when Lyssa had her boys and April _is_ a _delight_. Perhaps being a grandmother is different. Perhaps…” She dismissed her own question with an impatient wave of her hand. “I am aware Effie does not think much of me as a mother… I gave it my all, of course, and Lyssa never hinted she wished I had done things a different way but I believe I told you before… Effie was always _difficult_. I always knew she resented me. I always knew she hated me for some of the things I put her through even if I believed they were for her own good…”

Her voice trailed off and Haymitch wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to lie and pretend everything had always been fine between them because it wasn’t true and because _he_ hadn’t forgotten. Because he would spend the rest of his life on the lookout in case her family hurt her again.

“I don’t think she sees things the same way now.” he pointed out awkwardly. It wasn’t his place to come between Elindra and Effie. He didn’t even _want_ to. Tadius, he could deal with easily enough. But _Elindra_ … And when it came down to it, he was on Effie’s side anyway. Always and forever, no questions asked. “Last year changed things.”

“Did it?” she whispered, briskly lifting April to place her on his lap before standing up in a ruffling of fabric. She went straight to the fireplace and started rearranging the framed pictures on the mantelpiece. “I always knew she hated me, Haymitch, but I never thought she was _scared_ of me.”

“Then, you’re pretty stupid.” he scoffed, distracting April by making the ragdoll dance in the air in front of her. “She’s always been scared you’d disapprove of everything she does. Don’t think she wants to _care_ but she does anyway. You _programmed_ her that way.”

“That is not what I mean.” Elindra denied as if _that_ was nothing. “Earlier, at the hospital, I tried comforting her and she… She _recoiled_. She was scared of me. Terrified sick. She…”

Her voice broke and Haymitch was grateful her back was turned to him because he wasn’t sure he had it in him to offer physical comfort. Not to her anyway.

“She probably didn’t know who you were.” he argued.

“She knew who Peeta was.” she countered. “She always knows who _you_ are.”

“Not always.” he refuted. “Sometimes, it takes a while for me to get to her. And the first few weeks after…” He didn’t want to think back to the weeks that had followed her rescue. He didn’t want to think about the terror perpetually glued to her face, the panic that would flash in her eyes every time someone got too close… “Look, when she’s like this… In her mind she’s back in a time when you weren’t exactly _around_. It’s possible she thought you were someone else.”

“Someone who would hurt her.” Elindra murmured. “Who would think that of their own mother…”

“Someone who’s been through hell and sometimes gets very confused.” he stated quietly but firmly.

She stopped rearranging the pictures to turn around, uncertainty on her face. “I _never_ lifted a hand on her. _Never_. How _barbaric_ it would have been! For her to be _physically_ scared of me… I did _not_ like that feeling. I _know_ I am not the mother she wishes for but…”

“She doesn’t think you’re a threat, Elindra.” he cut her off. “She wasn’t herself. She tried to claw my eyes out once. The things she sees when she’s like that and reality are two _very_ different things.”

“She was doing better before being forced to stay at the clinic, wasn’t she?” she asked.

It was so obvious the Capitol was out of her depths there. Troubled people were shipped away to institutions in the city, it had always been like that. It was the reason why victors who couldn’t cope had been invited to stay permanently in their own District back in the days.

“Yeah.” he confirmed. The encounter with the former Peacekeeper hadn’t done her too much good but it had been months earlier and she had eventually bounced back. But spending weeks on end at the hospital…  “We always knew staying at the clinic would be complicated. That’s why Larcher tried to put it off as long as possible.”

The doctor would have released her long ago if he had thought it had been safe to do so or if the risk to her health had been minimal.

“I _hate_ seeing her like _this_.” she confessed. “I feel utterly _helpless_.”

“It’s gonna be over soon.” he told her and he hoped when the end came it wouldn’t be as ominous as it sounded.

Elindra studied him for a long minute and then turned her attention to the child on his lap who was now very busy pulling the golden bangle from under the sleeve of his shirt. She had a thing for shiny objects. It seemed it was a family trait.

“I am unsure she is completely aware of the risks.” she declared, her voice growing strong again as if to keep on top of a conversation that was far too difficult. “I talked with your Doctor Larcher. We are not looking at an easy delivery, C-section or not. Chances are that something will go wrong and…”

“She knows.” he confirmed and after a beat he added “We talked about it.” And it had been the worst conversation of his life and he really didn’t want to have it again. “If it comes down to choosing, she wants the baby to be the priority. I said no.”

“And?” Elindra prompted, her jaw clenched when he didn’t elaborate.

“And it’s my child too.” he spat. “It comes down to it, _how_ am I supposed to make a _fucking_ choice between her and him?” He shook his head. “It won’t come down to that.”

He wasn’t one for blind hope. He had _never_ been one for blind hope – that was Effie’s territory – but this time, he needed to believe everything would be alright. He needed to… 

“You do not know this.” she scowled. “And I would like to know that if the moment to choose _does_ arrive…”

“I don’t want to think about it.” he snarled. “I can’t have…”

“She is _my baby_.” Elindra snapped, raising her voice enough that he fell silent, shocked by the strength of the feelings he could hear in there. She seemed surprised herself but she recovered quickly, smoothing imaginary creases off her dress like Effie did all the time when she was nervous or unsettled. “I _won’t_ lose my child, Haymitch. I came too close too many times.”

The simple idea of losing Effie… The fact that it was a reality he might have to face…

It was enough to make him dizzy with nausea. His hands were shaking.

He had meant what he had told Effie that night they had discussed it. He would fall apart without her. Kids or no kids, he would fall apart. He would try but he would fail. The hole she would leave in his chest… She was _his heart_. It was as simple as that. She was his heart and if he lost her…

“I don’t want to have to choose.” he murmured around the lump in his throat.

“Then you won’t.” she declared firmly, standing that little bit straighter. “If that moment comes… If that moment comes, _I_ will take the decision. You will be free to hate me for it. She _will_ hate me for it… But she will be alive to do it and that is all that matters.”

Effie would hate him too if he went along with that.

And _Aidan_ … Oh, they _couldn’t_ lose Aidan. Not now. They had a nursery and stuffed toys and clothes… They couldn’t lose him.

It wasn’t as easy as discharging responsibility on someone else.

“I need to go to the hospital.” he muttered, exhausted by that conversation. He rubbed his eyes, forcing a smile when April babbled a _Dada_.

“If the worst was to happen…” Elindra ventured and Haymitch groaned.

“ _Seriously_ , sweetheart?” he spat.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Please, Haymitch, we are _civilized_ people. Call me _Mother_ , not one of your _tacky_ pet names.”

“I don’t want to talk about what happens if Effie…” he sneered, ignoring that. “ _Fuck_ , I don’t even what to _think_ about it.”

“Naturally.” she agreed easily but she didn’t let go and he wasn’t even surprised. She only ever did what she wanted to, after all, never mind whose feelings she hurt in the process. “I simply want to know… If Effie… Would we still be welcomed in April’s life?”

He blinked, needing a second to figure that one out.

“You’re her grandparents.” he shrugged.

“That is _not_ an answer.” she argued.

“That’s one for me. Family’s family.” he snorted, standing up and placing April down on the couch after having pressed a kiss on her forehead. “You can give her some soup, yeah? It’s past her feeding time and she didn’t eat much at lunch. She must be hungry.”

“Of course.” she agreed easily. There was something odd in her voice he didn’t even try to decipher. He kissed his daughter one last time and grabbed the woolen sweater he had tossed on the back of the couch that morning. “Haymitch?”

“Yeah?” he asked distractedly, trying to figure out where he had left his shoes. He remembered kicking them off when he had come home to April… They must be in the hallway.

She cleared her throat. “I never thanked you, did I? For saving my daughter’s life and then protecting her.”

He stared at her for a second, unable to figure out what was going on behind that mask of aristocratic disdain.

“You don’t need to.” he shrugged. “She saved me first.”

He found the shoes next to the coat rack and slipped them on, aware the Capitol was lurking behind him, April in her arms.

“I find I am happy Effie was always too strong-minded to listen to my advice.” she hummed, her whole attention on his daughter. Or at least that was the image she gave. “I do not think she would have been as happy with someone else.”

That was a backhand compliment, he thought.

He didn’t care much for the Trinkets’ approval but he couldn’t deny it made him feel… _good_. It was important they all got along for Effie’s and April’s sakes and he had been making _efforts_ …

“Goodnight.” he offered. “Mother.”

It didn’t even sound _that_ forced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... What did you think? Will April become a jewel thief when she grows up? Are Haymitch and Elindra finally understanding each other? Will they all be a big and happy family? How long before the baby comes? Let me know your thoughts!


	64. 11 Months & 35 Weeks

April had grown up so much, Effie could only marvel at it. The girl was nestled against her side, having settled down for a nap after having yawned wide. She was sucking on a new glittery pacifier, clutching the stuffed dog to her chest with one arm, holding fast to the rag doll with her other hand the stuffed elephant trapped against her legs. All that menagerie took space, particularly the Snowball replica and Effie was feeling a bit crowded on that hospital bed.

Not that anyone seemed to notice or care.

Haymitch was reading a book – or, more accurately, pretending he wasn’t falling asleep on the book. Katniss was sitting at the small plastic table full of get well cards and flowers in the corner and was scribbling answers to letters she seemed to receive by the dozen – it had to do with the remembrance book, Effie thought, some of the families and friends of tributes had contacted her with information to add to the next volumes. Elindra was standing at the window, skimming through the latest edition of a fashion magazine when she wasn’t glancing through the window with longing…

It had been raining since that morning and Effie was fairly certain her mother was absolutely _done_ with this District. When her father had showed up the previous week-end, under the very thin excuse of checking the construction work site at the edge of town, Elindra had seemed desperate for him to either stay with them or take her back to the city with him. More than two months in Twelve, far from _civilized_ population and tea parties, had clearly been enough for her.

Effie had covertly suggested to her father that perhaps her mother should go back, that Elindra had done more than her share already and that she would completely understand. Tadius had answered that Elindra didn’t want to hear about it. And neither did he. Her father had claimed that if business hadn’t prevailed for the family’s financial sake, he would have been there full-time too.

Lyssandra had sent a huge care package through him, full of new toys for April, _darling_ baby clothes for Aidan, a few golden and pink hair accessories for her and  a whole case of make-up and nail polish in every color of the rainbow for Elindra who had nagged and nagged until they all let her do their nails. Katniss had valiantly resisted for two whole days before getting cornered and eventually submitting just so she didn’t have to hear about it anymore. Which was how the girl got to have green forest painted nails. Effie’s were a bright cheerful pink. And April was a pale blue – and Effie didn’t want to revisit the temper tantrum Haymitch had had when he had seen _that_ , she had had all the pain in the world convincing him it had been all in good fun, the baby requesting some for herself when she saw Elindra paint her mother’s nails, rather than any elaborate plan to turn their daughter into a Capitol’s poster child.

Her attention switched back to April who was breathing deep and loud. Her blond hair was impossibly curly and Effie couldn’t help but smile. She hated her own hair but it looked so good on her daughter…

Aidan kicked and she distractedly rubbed the spot, too used by now to being treated like a punching-bag by their son. Perhaps he was jealous, she mused, placing her hand flat on her side to try and get a better feel of him. She didn’t want her children to be jealous of each other, she wanted to treat them the same way, she didn’t want one to feel left out or… She wondered how she was going to accomplish _that_. She worried she would be bad at it, that she wouldn’t manage to be a good mother to _two_ children at once – and that was without even taking into consideration that she intended to get her dressmaker business back on track eventually. Not immediately, of course. She would wait a couple of months. But then…

April curled up a little in her sleep, her knee hitting Effie’s thigh, and her eyes went from the bump to her daughter again. She would be one year old soon.

_One year_ …

How could time have gone by _that_ fast? It seemed like she had given birth only yesterday.

Perhaps it had to do with getting pregnant immediately afterwards but… _One_ _year_. It seemed crazy. Impossible.

Another kick made her lose her breath and she breathed in deeply, waiting for the pain to subside… It didn’t. It turned into a tearing sensation in her lower belly that _couldn’t_ be good. At all.

“Haymitch.” she said at once, trying to keep a level head.

He looked up from his book, blinking a little, clearly not completely awake. “What?”

“You need to take April away and you need to get a nurse.” she demanded, breathing hard through the pain that was only increasing by the second.

“I’ll get the nurse!” Katniss declared, running out the door, clearly alarmed by the urgency in her voice.

Haymitch was already on his feet by then and had already lifted the sleeping girl up, passing her to Elindra before she could think of cuddling against his chest. The stuffed animals were tossed on the armchair and, through all this, Effie tried to keep her breathing regular.

“You’re having contractions?” he asked, worried, placing a hand on her stomach.

She shook her head, her fingers coiling around his wrist in reflex, scared by the odd sensation in her body. “I don’t think…”

“Haymitch.” Elindra cut in suddenly, a little shakily. She was holding April against her shoulder, one hand at the back of the girl’s head as if to keep her from seeing..

Haymitch looked down and turned pale. “ _Shit_.”

She was lying down, her stomach was in the way and she couldn’t _see_ what had alarmed them like that. She tried to scramble up but it only jolted her stomach and she couldn’t help a little cry because…

“Don’t move.” Haymitch ordered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart. It’s gonna be _just_ fine.”

“Did my water break?” she asked, clinging to his forearm because that was the most tangible thing around. She thought her thighs were wet but she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t _felt_ it. The pain was too much. And she felt dizzy. And the white walls took her back and…

“Effie, stay with me.” he growled, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “Focus on me. You’re in Twelve, you’re with me…” Katniss and the nurse arrived at that point. The woman took one look at her and didn’t even bother checking her out, running back out with a promise to get Doctor Larcher immediately. Haymitch didn’t even _glance_ away. “Take April outside.” he ordered. He waited until Elindra had left the room with their daughter and Katniss had followed after grabbing the three stuffed toys to distract the baby, before he leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “It’s gonna be alright, your hear me? We’re gonna be _fine_.”

“Did my water break?” she asked again in a whimper. The pain was _so_ strong… And it _did_ feel wet for sure now.

“I don’t know, Princess.” he hesitated, swallowing hard. “You’re bleeding. Bad.”

“Bleeding?” she repeated. There was a hissing sound in her ears and she felt light-headed but it was hard to say if it had to do with blood loss or terror or… “I don’t want to lose the baby…”

“We’re _not_ losing the baby.” he countered. “We’re _not_ losing either of you. It’s alright. They’re gonna stop it like they did before. It’s gonna be _alright_.”

He sounded desperate and she wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. He was careful not to look at the soaked sheets either, she noticed. _Trigger_ , she remembered and not just to her.

Doctor Larcher came jogging in right at that moment and immediately took action, surrounded by a couple of nurses. They stripped the sheets off, the doctor took a look at what was going on down there and then pursed his lips in a way that told Effie it wasn’t good.

“She needs a blood transfusion.” Larcher told the nurse, before looking up at Haymitch. “If any of you is the same blood type, get in touch with a nurse, we have a stock of blood bags but I’d rather have more than not enough.”

“What’s happening?” Haymitch asked, lost and scared and…

Effie squeezed his wrist, _tried_ to… Her fingers felt numb.

“Haymitch?” she mumbled too low to be heard in the surrounding chaos.

“Her placenta tore.” Doctor Larcher declared. “We have to take her into surgery _now_.”

Even as he said that she was lifted and moved onto a gurney and she lost her weak grip on Haymitch’s wrist. She tried to protest because that was the only thing that mattered at that second. She couldn’t be torn from his side again. She wouldn’t be kept away and hurt and…

“I want to stay with her.” Haymitch demanded.

“I’m sorry, no.” Larcher said, not without kindness but also in a no-nonsense kind of voice. “I can’t have you in the way, Haymitch.”

“But…” he argued and they were already rolling her away. She tried to call out to him again, to turn so she could grab him… The pain was overwhelming now, all-encompassing… They were going to cut her to pieces. They were going to… Suddenly, his hand closed around hers. He was jogging alongside the gurney and he was talking but she didn’t understand all of it. She _did_ understand when he leaned in as they were reaching a door he apparently couldn’t go through with her… It had happened once before, hadn’t it? When he had taken her out of that cell and to a hospital? Or was it _now_? The gurney briefly stopped and he planted a quick kiss on her lips, his breathing erratic. “Don’t die on us. Don’t you _fucking_ die on me and April. I _love_ you, Effie.”

The gurney was rolling again before she could answer him.

She couldn’t really make sense of the orders being barked around. _Prepping for surgery. Sedatives. Another blood bag_.

It made no sense. At all.

A man’s face hovered over her at some point. He looked kind and she didn’t feel threatened by him.

“I will do my best to deliver this baby and keep you both alive, Effie.” the man promised. “I need you to trust me.”

“The baby…” she muttered, not sure why. “The baby first.”

Something passed on the man’s face, sorrow or anxiety perhaps, she wasn’t sure.

“I’m aiming for both.” the man joked but it wasn’t exactly amused. “I don’t want to tell Haymitch I lost either of you.”

“Haymitch…” she whispered just as they forced something over her nose, a mask of some kind…

They told her to breathe deep and she did…

And then she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dum dum duuuuuuum... 
> 
> Angst is coming...


	65. 11 Months & 35 Weeks (2)

Haymitch’s jaw was clenched so hard his teeth were starting to hurt.

He was sitting in the waiting room, where one of the nurses had directed him to earlier, head bowed, elbows propped on his legs, hands joined and hanging loose… The posture of _defeat_. It had been… How long had it been? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Twenty? He wasn’t sure. He had lost count somewhere down the line. It might not have been so long.

How long did it take to deliver a baby by C-section?

Thirty-five weeks wasn’t _that_ bad, he told himself. They were two weeks short of the goal they had been aiming for and he knew there were little chances Aidan wouldn’t go into an incubator but thirty-five weeks wasn’t that bad. There wouldn’t be too many complications. _Hopefully_.

“Here.” Katniss offered quietly, handing him a plastic cup from the vending machine tucked in the corner of the room.

He was extremely slow when he took it, straightening up asked for an energy he didn’t seem to have. His body felt as heavy as lead.

He barely noticed the curious people who were sometimes glancing at the lot of them, either waiting to be called or waiting for news of their own. His eyes immediately zeroed on Peeta who had arrived just in time to take care of April. He had settled the girl in a corner of the room and was playing with her and stuffed toys, sometimes stealing a look toward the nurse station but otherwise doing a better job as staying calm than Haymitch was.

Finally, he relieved the girl of the cup and took a sip only to wince at the taste of tepid tea.

“I didn’t think coffee would be a good idea.” she shrugged, dropping on the chair next to him and perching her feet on the very edge, wrapping an arm around her legs as if hugging herself. “She’s gonna be fine. You’ll see. She’s gonna be _fine_.” she whispered, leaning more into his side. He leaned back if only because the solidity of her was reassuring and he needed the comfort. “It’s all gonna be fine.”

He wasn’t sure how her hand ended up trapped in his free one but they held fast to each other’s fingers, both terrified at the prospect of what would happen if everything _didn’t_ end up being fine.

April wouldn’t be the only to lose a mother if…

_Fuck._

He couldn’t even think about _that_.

He watched his daughter waved her stuffed elephant at Peeta, explaining something apparently very important in her usual gibberish. When the boy didn’t get it, she pouted that pout that was _so much_ like Effie’s it was hard to breathe and looked around, brightening when she spotted him.

“Dada!” she demanded, arms lifted high over her head in a way that mean she wanted to be carried.

He couldn’t move.

He wanted to because his daughter needed him and…

He couldn’t move.

His body weighted too much. He was frozen in place. He wanted to throw up, to shout, to cry, to _drink_ …

April was nothing but stubborn though, she decided that if he wouldn’t go to her, she would go to  him. She got to her feet and started waddling toward him, Peeta was right behind her, holding her hand to help her walk. Once she was close enough, Haymitch automatically scooped her up with his free arm and settled her on his lap. Peeta dropped on his other side with a long sigh and Haymitch let his head hit the wall at his back.

He closed his eyes.

It was too much.

Sitting there, surrounding by his kids, waiting to hear if Effie…

It was too much.

“Everything will be fine.” Peeta promised firmly.

“Has there been any news?” Elindra’s high-pitched voice echoed around the waiting room as she came back from whenever the nurse had taken her to draw out some blood in case Effie needed it. The Capitol took one look at the four of them huddled together and pursed her lips, either in disapproval at their lack of decorum or in… He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

“No news yet.” Katniss mumbled, wrapping her fingers around April’s ankle as if to steady the baby who didn’t need steadying at all. The girl was happy to snuggle into Haymitch’s chest and to resume her previously interrupted nap.

_Interrupted by Effie bleeding out so bad the sheets had been soaked with blood and…_

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again.

“I see.” Elindra said and her voice wavered. “Well. I will try to find a phone and call Tadius to warn him. I will be back.”

He vaguely wondered if the phone call was an excuse to go somewhere private and have the breakdown Haymitch desperately wanted to have.

It was at least fifteen minutes before she came back.

And still no news.

Katniss’ whole weight was resting against his side now and he eventually shifted to wrap an arm around her, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow and hugging her close along with April. He wasn’t really surprised when he felt Peeta’s shoulder pressing hard against his or when he saw the boy reach out to Katniss. The kids’ entwined hands fell on April’s leg.

They were a block, an _unit_.

Elindra was sitting a couple of chairs away, still not completely a part of their family despite the last couple of months.

When a nurse finally approached them, Haymitch looked up at her with dread, his heart hammering in his chest, his breath stuck in his throat.

“You have a very healthy baby boy, Mr Abernathy.” she said with a smile. Both the kids and Elindra breathed out a sigh of relief at that but Haymitch couldn’t, not yet. The nurse was still talking. “He was born at three sixteen exactly, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner we wanted to have a full picture before informing you. We have him settled in the neonatal nursery now, you can come with me and I will walk you through everything.”

Katniss uncurled and Peeta let go. To free him, he supposed. So he could stand up. Walk. Go see his son.

_His son_.

It all felt so surreal.

It all felt so…

“My wife?” he croaked, his voice raw and rough.

The nurse’s face was a blank mask of professionalism. “She is still in surgery. There are complications.”

“What sort of complications?” Elindra asked, already out of her chair and hovering there, filing up the space with an authoritative attitude that was bordering on desperate. “I can have the best surgeons here on a phone call. If…”

“The bleeding is extensive.” the nurse cut her off as if it explained everything. Her voice was kind when she turned toward Haymitch once more. “I know you are worried, Mr Abernathy, but you have a baby waiting for you back there. It is an awfully frightening big world for him to be alone in right now.”

The idea that his child could be alone and scared…

He was on his feet in a second, April clutched tight to his chest.

The woman’s eyes fell on the girl and she smiled. “No other visitors for now. In a few hours…”

“Give her to me.” Elindra requested, opening her arms. The sleeping baby didn’t even lift an eyelid when he passed her over with an unnecessary glance to Katniss. He knew the kids would keep an eye on his daughter.

He wiped his hands on his pants as he followed the nurses down the corridors. It shouldn’t happen like that, he mused. It should be like for April. He should have been there when his son was born. He should have held him first thing, he should have been able to cut the cord, he should have…

He could barely focus when the nurse stopped him and handed him some sort of thin plastic gown before instructing him to wash his hands. There were two other babies in plastic cribs in the nursery but his eyes went straight to the big incubator in the corner. _So_ big… And inside…

The moment he caught sight of the baby, he dashed to his side in a flash, taking him in. Aidan was small, smaller than April had been, and his skin looked slightly yellowish. There were tubes. Tiny little tubes in his nose and a bandage on his tummy that he knew probably came from the cord but he was so small and all those things… The plastic band around his tiny wrist…

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he startled. The nurse was lucky he managed to control himself because with his child in so obvious distress and the stress, he was a ball of nerves. Being surprised by a perceived threat right then…

“I know it’s scary.” the woman sympathized. “But this whole thing is more impressive than it really is, I promise. Your son…”

“Aidan.” he corrected, his gaze settling back on the apparently sleeping baby. He was yearning to touch him, to let him know he wasn’t alone, that… “His name’s Aidan.”

“Aidan.” she accepted with a smile. “Aidan is doing very well. He is breathing on his own, which is _the best_ we could hope for. We are giving him oxygen just to be on the safe side, if everything is going well, we will probably stop in a few days. Now, he can’t really regulate his temperature yet and he needs to safely grow up a little, that’s why the incubator is for. Alright?”

He nodded, tentatively placing his hand on the plastic wall of the weird square shaped bubble. He didn’t let himself think of it as a coffin. He _didn’t_. “He’s okay?”

“He is premature and premature babies are more fragile. But he is doing _really_ well. We examined him and he gave us no cause for serious concern.” she temporized, opening the incubator and carefully scooping the baby out.

Haymitch wasn’t ready for that, he wanted to protest because surely Aidan needed to stay in there to be _safe_. Wasn’t that what she had just explained? Wasn’t that…

She handed him over and it was a reflex to put his arms the right way, to cradle him close… He looked at her, afraid of doing the wrong thing, of tugging on the tubes…

“You have to be very careful but you can _absolutely_ hold him.” the nurse declared. “He is going to have to spend a lot of time in that incubator and it’s not good for babies to think they’re abandoned so, actually, you _have_ to hold him as often as you can.” She fetched a chair and Haymitch sat down without really thinking twice about it, completely stunned. The woman smiled at him. “I will go see if there are news about your wife. If you have any problems or questions, there is another nurse around the corner.”

She was gone before he could even nod, leaving him alone with a premature baby he had zero idea how to care for.

He took a real look at Aidan for the first time since she had placed him in his arms and just as he was about to start panicking, the baby opened his eyes and let out a tiny sound. It was like the mewling of a kitten and it made Haymitch chuckle. His sight blurred when it _finally_ hit that this was _his son_.

His perfect little jellyfish.

“Hello, baby boy.” he whispered, his voice cracking a little. “You were in a hurry, yeah? Couldn’t wait any longer?” Aidan’s eyes were clearer than April’s, more grey than blue. There was no fuzz on his head and the skin of his skull looked all smooth. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes… He hesitated a second, not sure he was allowed, and then decided the nurse would have mentioned it so he gently and carefully placed a light kiss on the baby’s head. “Hello, Aidan…”

His son started to fuss, wriggling a little. Haymitch knew the signs well enough now and he wasn’t surprised when the baby started to cry. He was relieved however by the strength of those wails. The baby’s lungs couldn’t be too badly developed if he could scream so loud.

“Not a happy camper, yeah?” he snorted, gently rocking the baby. “Can’t blame you. Must be scary. Didn’t introduce myself either… Your mama would have my balls for that…” He closed his eyes, his throat closing up at the thought of Effie. “I’m your papa. And I’m _fucking_ glad to see you so well. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

He _should_ have been. He should have been there to witness the birth and… Instead his son had been handled by strangers for the first minutes of his life.

“It’s complicated, jellyfish.” he sighed. “Can’t tell you how much your mama would like to be here right now. When she finally gets to see you, I promise she won’t want to let you go ever again.”

He hummed April’s favorite lullaby and the baby slowly settled down. He met the clear grey eyes staring back at him and _fuck_ if he didn’t fall in love right then.

“You’re perfect.” he told Aidan. “You’re so _fucking_ perfect and I love you _so_ much. Told your sister when she was born, you need to know it too… I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you safe. I’m gonna do everything I can to…” He stopped, not quite sure what it was he would be trying to do. The future looked uncertain right now, without knowing how Effie was doing. “Wanna hear about your mama? Bravest woman I’ve met. She’s fierce, you know. Too smart for me, too. And so _gorgeous_ …”

He pressed a kiss on the baby’s forehead, careful to not dislodge the tiny tubes in his nose.

“It’s gonna be okay, Aidan.” he swore. “Whatever happens… Papa’s gonna make it okay for you.”

And, at that moment, staring in his son’s eyes, he believed it.

“Haymitch.” Doctor Larcher’s tired voice called from the threshold of the nursery.

Until he caught sight of the doctor’s grim expression, Haymitch believed it.

After catching sight of it…

After catching sight of it, he just clung to his baby boy, closed his eyes and tried not to have a complete breakdown for his child’s sake if nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooops another cliffhanger... But at least Aidan is born and as healthy as can be... What do you think is up with Effie? Let me know your thoughts!


	66. 11 Months & 6 Hours

_Dull._

That was what registered first. The dulled feeling of pain around her midsection. She whined when her eyelashes fluttered open. Her body felt too light, her brain was sluggish and she had no clue what was going on.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

It took her a second to place Haymitch’s voice and even longer to turn her head to look at him. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed – _hospital bed_ – and her hand was trapped in his. His thumb was gently running on her knuckles and he was smiling.

“I feel weird.” she slurred.

“That would be the drugs.” he snorted. “Just take a moment, yeah?” She smacked her lips open and closed, bothered by how parched her mouth was. He helped her sip some water from a cup on her bedside table and she studied him all the while, trying to gather her wits. She was in a hospital room and in pain and her mind immediately flashed to… “You’re in Twelve. You’re with me. You’re safe. The war’s over. We’re married. We’ve got two kids. Remember?”

That was a lot of information in one go but she finally relaxed. Yes. _Yes_. The war was long over. She wasn’t a prisoner anymore. She wasn’t…

She frowned. “Two?”

He _beamed_. “Yeah. _Fuck_ , Effie, he’s _perfect_. He’s so _fucking_ perfect…”

_Aidan_.

Pain.

She had been in pain. And then she had lost blood and then… Then they had taken her in for an emergency C-section and…

She tried to sit up and immediately froze when her stomach flared in pain.

“Easy.” he said, placing a restraining hand on her shoulder. “You had surgery. It was… It was touch and go for a while.”

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand, straining her neck to look around the room for the plastic crib with the baby. There _must_ be a plastic crib with their baby somewhere, surely? “Where is he? I want my baby.”

“He’s in the neonatal nursery for now.” he winced. “He’s in a special incubator.” She gasped, her eyes filling with tears of terror but before she could ask what was wrong with their son, he squeezed her shoulder. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s _alright_. He’s _fine_. It’s mostly to be safe. They’re giving him oxygen, yeah? But the nurse said it would probably only be a few days and then they can move him to a smaller incubator and he can be here in your room with you all the time.”

Her head was spinning.

“I want to see my baby.” she demanded. She tried to push the blankets down so she could sit up, never mind the pain, but he stopped her again. She glared at him this time, mostly because she didn’t have the strength to fight him off. “I want my son, Haymitch.”

“I know.” he sighed, sounding sadly apologetic. “I asked. Maybe tomorrow if they think you can handle a short trip in a wheelchair.”

“In a wheelchair?” she scoffed. “I can walk.”

“Forgot about the invasive surgery already?” he snorted and then sobered up. He looked down and then back at her, licking his lips nervously. “Look… Larcher can explain better but… You were bleeding out, Effie. They almost lost you. _We_ almost lost you. They had to…” He winced. “They had to take things out.”

She stared at him, confused. First because he wasn’t making much sense, then because she still was really focused on getting to their son. And not the following day. “What do you mean?”

“Larcher said… He had to do a partial hysterectomy.” he said slowly, a bit warily.

“Partial?” She didn’t understand anything.

Haymitch winced once more and shook his head. “I’m sorry I was… Just… You were alive and that’s all I really cared about. From what I got, he saved your ovaries and I don’t know what else but he had to take some stuff out and I guess… I guess the main point is that means you can’t…”

“Have any more children.” she finished, finally catching up. Everything was far too raw and new for her to have much feelings about that right then. She had never thought she could have them in the first place and then she had two and the last pregnancy… To be honest, she wouldn’t have wanted to go through something like that again so… “It’s alright.”

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding relieved. “I thought you might be upset.”

She blinked and then tried to sit up again but his hand was unforgiving on her shoulder.

“I _am_ upset because _you_ are keeping me _away_ from _my baby_.” she snapped.

“It was a really serious surgery.” he replied firmly. “You’re not getting out of bed.”

“I want my child.” she hissed.

“Do you want your child to have a mother?” he retorted. “’Cause I’ve almost lost you once today, I sure as hell _ain’t_ risking it again.”

There was pain and anger in his voice and it calmed her down a little.

“But he needs me.” she pleaded. “He is all alone and he must be scared and… I did not even get to hold him yet. He must think I have _abandoned_ him. I…”

His hand left her shoulder to cup her cheek and he moved from the chair to sit at the edge of the mattress. It was enough to jolt her and the pain that stabbed through her mid-section was so brutal she almost cried out despite the meds running in her system. Perhaps he had a point, she finally acknowledged, she would never make it past the door before crumbling in pain.

“I’ve told him all about you.” he promised in that soft voice he usually reserved for April. “He knows you’d be with him if you could. It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want him to be all alone.” she insisted, trying and failing to swallow back the sob. It only woke the pain in her stomach and she breathed out slowly, trying to get a grip on herself before it all spiraled out of control.  “You should… You should go be with him. I…”

“Your mother is sitting with him.” he told her. “I’ve been going back and forth.”

“April?” she asked.

“The kids took her home.” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. “You need to rest, yeah? The more you rest, the quicker you heal, the sooner you can go see our boy.”

She was tired and she didn’t have it in her to fight anymore. She felt awfully guilty about that because she should have shouted and screamed and raged until someone took her to see her son – surgery or not – but she could barely keep her eyelids open.

“What does he look like?” she whispered.

“I think he’s got my eyes.” Haymitch chuckled.

“Good.” she smiled. “I love your eyes.” He snorted and pressed a kiss on her lips. It was a light fleeting kiss but she could taste the urgency in it. The _fear_. Her hand was heavy but she forced herself to briefly caress his cheek, his stubble… She smiled at him with unrestrained tenderness. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes and slowly breathed out, leaning in until he could rest his forehead against hers, careful not to put any weight at all on her body. “Never do something like that again, yeah?”

“I will try.” she promised.

He made an obvious effort to shake off the dread and anxiety. His tone was light when he spoke again. “He’s smaller than April was but he’s got your lungs too. He’s a wailer, that one. Gave him his first bottle…”

“Oh.” she pouted. She had missed it. She had missed so many things with April during the last few months and now she had missed her son’s first bottle too.

He kissed the pout away. “Got it all on camera for you.”

It didn’t make it much better but it was a small comfort. “Thank you.”

“Hey…” he chided her, bumping his nose against her cheek. “It’s not your fault, yeah? And we’ve got a son, Princess. We’ve got our little jellyfish.”

“A jellyfish with your temper if I understand it right.” she teased.

“I’ve got a really _nice_ temper.” he countered, drawing back so he could sit straighter. “It’s more like _your_ temper, throwing tantrums around…” 

“Aidan Timotheo Abernathy.” she whispered dreamily, her eyelashes fluttering closed.

“My son’s named after two Capitols. If anyone needed any proof you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, that’s it…” he mocked without any heat.

“It is good for a husband to be in love with his wife.” she hummed back, fighting to stay awake.

His fingers gently retraced the line of her cheekbone. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Tell me more about him.” she begged.

And so he did. He described their son in details.

And she fell asleep dreaming about their baby.

When she opened her eyes next, she felt a little less sluggish but it still took her a few minutes to get her bearings.

“Look, my dear, your mother is awake.”

She turned her head in the direction of the voice, a little startled to find her father sitting where Haymitch used to be, April on his knees. Her daughter was more interested by the new stuffed bear she was turning in her hands than by her though.

“Father?” she mumbled. She tried to sit up a little but the pain flared in her mid-section and she quickly decided to stay put. She forced her mind to get a grip, to ground herself. April was there and if April was there… She was in Twelve. Safe. “Haymitch?”

“He is with your boy.” Tadius offered, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I tried to convince him to get some rest but he won’t hear of it. Your mother went home to sleep. The night was long.”

“The night?” she frowned. When had her father gotten to Twelve at all? It was such a long journey from the city… “How long… How long was I asleep?”

“Quite a few hours as I understand it.” he answered, adjusting his grip on April because she wouldn’t sit still. Effie outstretched her hand in the child’s direction, guessing that she wanted some attention. April dropped the toy to grab her fingers, babbling in her gibberish baby language. Tadius smiled but it was strained. “And _rightly_ so. You are recovering, Euphemia. I understand the delivery was difficult.”

_It had been touch and go_ , that was what Haymitch had said, hadn’t he? She had almost died? And they had to do a partial hysterectomy. Tried as she might, she really couldn’t care about that right then. She knew it would most likely have consequences but…

“Aidan.” she demanded, letting go of April’s hand to push herself up, pain be damned. She clenched her jaw and breathed through it. Pain was nothing new. Pain was _nothing_.

“Oh, no, no, _no_ , darling!” Tadius protested, clearly panicking at the prospect of seeing her get up.

She ignored him and kept on pushing herself. Even when he hastily placed April down and took hold of her shoulders to force her to lie down. Her father wasn’t a strong man but she was weak still and her body yielded.

“I want to see my son!” she shouted, struggling against his hands.

The commotion must have attracted attention because a nurse ran into the room and helped Tadius keep her down.

“Now, now, Mrs Abernathy… Be reasonable.” The woman clucked her tongue. It was Effie’s favorite nurse but it didn’t spare her a glare. “If you promise me not to move, I will get Doctor Larcher for you.”

That was an arrangement she could live with and she stopped struggling with an irritated pout. April didn’t seem to understand what was going on and why everyone was shouting. Her little lips were wobbling and she was clutching her bear.

“It is alright, sweetie.” Effie cooed in her best soothing voice. “Do you want a cuddle? Mama really wants a cuddle…”

After a moment of hesitation, Tadius lifted April up and settled her on the bed. “Be very careful with your mama, April. She is a little sick.”

“Mama.” the girl mumbled, immediately snuggling closer to her side.

Effie embraced her back tightly with a lump in her throat. She felt incomplete. She needed Aidan there with them, she needed _both_ her children… She…

There was a knock on the door but it was more for politeness’ sake than a real request for permission to enter the room.

“Effie, how are you feeling?” Doctor Larcher asked, barely looking up from the file he was perusing. The man looked as bad as she felt and she wondered if _he_ had slept since delivering Aidan.

“I want to see my son.” she snapped petulantly.

“Now, Effie, I know you are upset but that is no reason for being rude.” Tadius chided in a low voice before clearing his throat. “As I am sure you might understand, Doctor, my daughter is anxious to see her son. Perhaps we can now arrange…”

“I _do_ understand.” Larcher sighed. “But as I have told Haymitch, the priority is my patients’ health. Aidan needs to remain in the neonatal nursery for now. As for Effie, if you would step outside for a moment, I would like to examine her.”

Tadius clearly didn’t like being talked to like that but he did pick up April and stepped out after assuring Effie he would be in the corridor – and while she appreciated the feeling, she didn’t necessarily need someone there to speak for her, she could do that herself. It was difficult to let go of her daughter but…

“I really want to see my son.” she insisted, as soon as the door had closed and she was left alone with the doctor.

“I know.” Larcher smiled gently. “And I promise I will make that happen as soon as possible as long as it is _safe_ for both of you.”

She breathed out slowly, feeling sad, helpless and dejected. Her son needed her and she was failing him already. What sort of mother was she?

She watched Larcher like a hawk while he examined her and probed at the stitched wound on her stomach but he had an excellent poker face. She answered his questions truthfully but played down the degree of pain she was in, knowing he would never allow her to go anywhere if she was honest about that.

By the time he had redressed the wound that did look a little inflammatory – and she didn’t even want to think about the new scar it would leave, what was one more after all? – he was already wincing and she knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

She wasn’t going anywhere for now, on her feet _or_ in a wheelchair.

“Please.” she begged, not ashamed of the tears that filled her eyes. “I _need_ to see him. I need to…”

“Effie, I am not doing this to be cruel.” Larcher interrupted her gently. “You _do_ understand, don’t you?”

She shook her head, her voice breaking into a sob. “I just want to hold my son. It’s _not_ fair. I…”

“I know.” the doctor sighed, sounding sorry but firm. “I know it’s not fair. It’s been a very difficult couple of months and you’re tired. You’re in pain. I _know_. But it was a serious surgery and we have to be careful because an infection is the _last_ thing your body need right now. I want you to rest a little more before we try to get you up, alright? We will see how it looks tonight.” She clenched her jaw but the tears slipped anyway. Larcher made a sympathetic wince and briefly squeezed her hand. “Your son is healthy and he is doing really well. I think we can take him off the oxygen in a day or two. I know you’re worried about him but he’s doing really well.”

_Without me_ , she wanted to point out bitterly but she was a bit too afraid that if she tried to speak, she would completely break down in hysterics.

She made an effort to nod but she couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“You have to be brave just a little longer, Effie.” the doctor promised. “Soon enough you will be able to take your son home and the last few months won’t seem that important anymore.”

She hoped so.

She really, _really_ hoped so.

She turned her head to the side and stared at the wall, blinking to chase the tears she couldn’t stop. Every gasp of breath jolted her and woke up the pain.

When her father came back with April, he seemed at a loss for how to deal with her. April was upset to see her upset and hearing her daughter’s wails only made her cry harder. All the clumsy “ _hush, now”_ and “ _everything will be fine”_ Tadius offered were lost.

All in all, the Capitol looked relieved when the children and Elindra knocked on the door.

Effie wasn’t sure if they discussed it or if it was just something that happened, she was too lost to the despair she couldn’t get a grip on. Her mind was slipping again and it wouldn’t take much for her to lose herself to the memories. The pain called to them.

Soon, though, her mother had dragged her father out of the room after having patted her hand in a ridiculous gesture of comfort, Peeta had picked up April and carried her outside and Katniss had dropped on the chair next to the bed.

She didn’t like crying in front of the children and she turned her head the other way but Katniss was always too stubborn for her own good and she moved from the chair to the edge of the mattress, refusing to be ignored.

“I haven’t seen him either yet.” Katniss said. If it was supposed to be comforting, it _really_ wasn’t. “Peeta went. He said he’s cute.” Effie closed her eyes and tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it wouldn’t go down. The tears wouldn’t stop. The despair wouldn’t go away. If anything, it grew worse when Katniss grabbed her hand because the girl wasn’t big on demonstrations of affection. “Jo and Annie called. They said to give you their love.”

“ _Jo_ said that?” she managed to croak out. The idea was so preposterous that she almost chuckled through her tears.

“Not in so many words but… You know.” Katniss shrugged.

“I suppose.” she whispered.

They were silent for a few minutes. Effie slowly tried to collect herself and Katniss fiddled with her braid. 

“Haymitch almost lost it.” The girl declared after a moment. She sounded nervous, _haunted_. “He didn’t… He didn’t shout or anything, he just sat there and… I don’t like seeing him like that, like he’s given up.”

“He would never give up on you.” she countered because she believed this with everything she had. She knew Haymitch had told himself that if he lost her he would go back to his old ways, that he would fail all their children but… She knew better. Haymitch was stronger than he knew and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his family.

“You wouldn’t either.” Katniss argued. “And we know that. Peeta and me. April. We know that. Aidan knows too, I’m sure.”

Aidan was a few hours old and they had never been introduced, she doubted he knew much of anything. All that boy probably knew was that he was missing a mother.

“Perhaps.” she granted because she was tired.

“You’re not the kind of mom who leaves their kids, Effie.” the girl insisted firmly. “Trust me, I know the difference. You didn’t abandon him and he’s not gonna hate you.”

Katniss’ voice caught a little and Effie finally turned her head to look at her, concerned. _That_ was something she knew how to do and that she could do: take care of her victor.

“Now, you know I usually refrain from calling people names…” she huffed. “But your mother is an utter _idiot_.” She couldn’t understand how Aster had just packed up and left, she _couldn’t_. She had never been able to conceive it before she had had children of her own and now it was even worse. _She_ would _never_ abandon her children, _any_ of her children. “And I cannot blame you for hating her. Truly.”

“I don’t hate her.” the girl refuted awkwardly, tugging harder on the end of her braid. “I don’t even _care_. Sometimes I think it’s best she didn’t come back with me. I would have ended up having to take care of her again, otherwise. Like before. And without Prim…” Katniss shrugged. “I don’t even miss her. Not really. I have Peeta and Haymitch and you. Jo, Annie and Finn… And now there’s April and Aidan.” The victor rolled her eyes. “And I guess your mom counts too now ‘cause… She’s _fucking_ annoying but she really stuck around. And I know you’re all here for me and I’m gonna be there for you no matter what, so… What I’m trying to say is…”

“That is what family is supposed to be like.”  she finished for her.

“Yeah.” Katniss answered after a beat.

Her lips stretched into a genuine smile and she squeezed the girl’s hand. “I _do_ love you, Katniss, you know.”

Her victor shifted awkwardly, almost as ill-at-ease with that sort of declarations as Haymitch was. “I love you too.”

“Ain’t that nice to hear.” Haymitch mocked from the room’s threshold, April perched on his hip. “You hear that, shrimp? Mama and Katniss love each other. What about you? You love your papa?”

“Bow!” the girl chirped.

“Nice, sweetheart.” he snorted. “Real nice. That’s fine, love the dog more than me.”

Despite herself, Effie laughed.

Katniss chuckled too and climbed off the bed. “I’m gonna find Peeta.”

“Thinks he’s gonna head home to feed the geese and walk the dog my daughter loves more than me.” Haymitch informed her, pretending to drop April in punishment only to make the girl laugh.

Effie couldn’t help but smile at that. She loved to hear her baby laugh.

He waited until Katniss had left the room to take the place she had vacated on the bed, propping April on his lap and making sure not to jostle Effie too much.

“Aidan?” she asked immediately.

“Your parents are with him.” he told her. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“I do not mean to be ungrateful but I am not interested in anything that is not holding my son.” she replied.

He leaned in to press a fleeting kiss against her neck. “Can’t do much about that, sweetheart, but I’ve got the next best thing.” He pulled a stack of Polaroid pictures from his pocket. “Your mom just took them.”

She snatched them from his hand so fast she scratched his skin. He hissed but didn’t complain and she was so enthralled by the pictures that she didn’t even apologize.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. So tiny in Haymitch’s arms, with clear eyes and a small nose…

_Aidan_.

She loved him so much already…

Tears rolled down her cheeks again but, this time, there was joy mixed with the yearning.

“Thank you…” she whispered. “ _Thank you_.” 

“You’ll get to hold him soon.” he promised in a soothing voice. “I told him. He can’t wait.”

She rested her head against his shoulder, distractedly letting April play with her hand, her eyes glued to the pictures of her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra early update because stuff happened and I'm not sure when I will be around! Sorry I missed last week! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and let me know your thoughts!


	67. 11 Months & 1 Day

Haymitch was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and he was staring distractedly at the dark clouds through the window of Effie’s room while Larcher examined the stitches on her stomach. Every time the doctor asked her to rate her pain and she declared it was _much better_ , he forced himself not to scoff because he just _knew_ she was lying through her teeth. He also knew she _needed_ to be allowed the trip to the nursery for her state of mind so he preferred focusing on the storm brewing outside instead of checking the wound like he wanted to.

If he didn’t see, he didn’t really know and if he didn’t really know he could keep his overprotective urges in check.

He was already unnerved as it was. The kids had taken April home half an hour earlier and being separated from his daughter was really starting to become unbearable. The worse was that she had grown used to it. She didn’t cry as much as she had a couple of months ago. She went with Katniss and Peeta while he stayed behind as if it was perfectly normal. He supposed for her it was now.

He _longed_ for the day they could all return home and go back to their routine.

He had gone back and forth between Effie’s room and the nursery all day, he hadn’t slept the previous night and he was also starting to feel the exhaustion creeping in. He hated the fact that he couldn’t be there for Aidan all the time, he hated having to delegate to Effie’s parents, he hated the fact that she was in pain, he hated…

“Alright.” Larcher said, sounding dubious but resigned. “I think we can try a short trip.” Effie squealed in joy and Haymitch smirked despite himself, turning his gaze to the bed where his wife was beaming. The doctor chuckled too but shook his head. “I _mean_ it, though. Only a _short_ trip. I don’t want you overdoing it. Believe it or not I want to see you leave this hospital sooner rather than later.”

“You and me both.” Haymitch sighed, pushing himself off the wall to come closer to the bed and grab her hand. “Ready to meet our son?”

She pursed her lips at his teasing, eyes narrowed at him and head tilted in annoyance.

He rolled his eyes in answer to the unvoiced complain, amused by the twitch of her lips.

It took almost half an hour to get her into the wheelchair. The medical staff wanted to take every precaution, Effie was impatient and Haymitch had a headache. By the time they were _finally_ on their way to the nursery, the storm had started outside and the sound of rain plashing against the roof served as a soundtrack to their progress.

Effie’s eyes snapped straight to the see-through incubator in the corner as soon as they entered the room. She strained her neck to see better, shifting in the wheelchair…

“Easy.” Haymitch warned, placing a hand on her shoulder. He knew her too well and didn’t trust her not to simply bolt out of there and to the baby, forgetting all about the recently gaping injury on her stomach.

Elindra and Tadius had been sitting next to the incubator, talking in soft voices. Effie’s mother looked like she had aged thirty years in one afternoon and Haymitch thought her first stop once she would be back in the city would be her plastic surgeon. The uncertainty of Effie’s survival the previous day… He wasn’t the only one that it had hit hard.

Tadius had probably been the lucky one.

He had gotten on a train as soon as Elindra had said Effie was in surgery and had arrived after they had been certain she would recover. He hadn’t had to endure the hours of not knowing.

“How are you feeling, Euphemia?” Elindra worried, shooting out of her chair to adjust the blanket the nurse had tossed over Effie’s lap.

Effie ignored her, completely focused on the incubator.

Haymitch wondered at which point the Capitol had started fussing like a normal mother. It had been gradual.

“Perhaps we should give them some privacy, dear.” Tadius suggested tactfully, gently placing his hand at his wife’s elbow. “I would not mind some coffee.”

Elindra didn’t look entirely pleased but she relented with a nod, briefly squeezing Haymitch’s shoulder as she walked past him. That too was new. He wasn’t very good at letting people take care of him and Elindra wasn’t very good at taking care of people. He supposed they made a fine pair.

He wasn’t quite sure what Effie could see from her sitting position, probably not much, certainly not enough but she didn’t immediately ask for Aidan and he didn’t rush to take him out of the incubator. He waited until the nurse and her parents had left to loosely coil his hand around her nape.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

“What if he resents me for abandoning him?” she whispered, real fear in her voice. “What if he never manages to love me because I was not here for him from the very first minute? What if we don’t connect? What if…”

“Sweetheart.” he cut her off firmly. “Breathe.” He looked inside the incubator, automatically smiling when his eyes fell on their son. “Hello again, jellyfish. Brought someone to see you.” Aidan was awake and squirming in his diaper. When Haymitch brushed the tiny hand with his forefinger, it closed around it. That wasn’t something he would _ever_ get tired of. He remembered doing that for hours with April. “You’re ready to meet your Mama? Yeah?”

Effie was very quiet now, watching him, trying to peer inside the plastic incubator but probably not seeing much… He carefully picked up Aidan, mindful of all the recommendations the nurses and midwives had made, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before gently handing it over to Effie.

She wrapped her arms around him in a practiced move, her face basked in awe and love as she finally got a good look at their son.

He had been expecting it so he wasn’t really startled when she started crying. He crouched next to her wheelchair, sliding an arm under the baby when it became obvious the pain in her stomach was making it difficult for her to hold him without feeling the strain. The last thing they needed was her popping off her stitches.

“The tubes are just there to make sure there’s no problem.” he explained in a quiet tone. “It’s scary but he’s fine. He’s fine.”

He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his free hand. Not that she noticed. Her whole attention was on the baby in her arms. She opened her mouth a few times but no words came out, she was too overwhelmed. Haymitch brushed her hair back, patiently waiting.

Aidan was wriggling a little in her arms, small lips smacking together… She slowly bowed to press a kiss on his head, her tears morphing into chuckles.

“He’s so perfect, Haymitch…” she breathed out. “So perfect…”

“Told you. We make really gorgeous kids.” he smirked, wrapping his hand around the small foot.

She laughed a short broken laugh, studying the baby’s features, committing them to memory… She pressed another kiss on the baby’s palm and another one on his tummy…

“Hello, darling…” she whispered. “I am sorry it took me so long to come see you… You must have been so scared without me… I love you so much… _So much_ … Hello, baby boy… I am going to love you so much you will be sick of me…”

“He’s so small.” Haymitch remarked, brushing his fingers against the top of the baby’s head carefully. Babies were so fragile… It terrified him when he stopped to think about it.

“He is _perfect_.” she retorted defensively, cradling him closer to her chest despite her shaking arms. She was starting to feel the strain, he figured. “He will grow. Won’t you, my love? I know you will. You will grow bigger than your papa even.”

“That’s a nice thought.” he snorted.

She glanced up at him and back down at the baby, enthralled. “He does have your eyes.”

“The midwife says they might get bluer yet.” he shrugged.

“I hope not.” she hummed. “He has my nose.”

“Yeah. Your mother’s thankful for that.” he mocked. She laughed but it died quickly when she winced and shifted a little on the wheelchair. He pursed his lips tight, studying her. “How much pain are you _really_ in?”

She shook her head, a soft smile stretching her lips when she nuzzled the baby’s stomach. “It is worth every second. He is very calm, isn’t he?”

“You caught him at a good moment.” he denied. “He’s fussy. Fussier than April was by far. We won’t get much sleep once we’re back home, I’m telling you.”

“You would be fussy too if you were forced to stay in that… _thing_.” she grumbled, glaring at the incubator. “He is _much_ better in his mother’s arms. It is as simple as that.”

He smirked but chose to humor her because she was so obviously besotted it was funny. It was good to see her like that. “Must be that.”

“I cannot wait to bring him home.” she confessed, yearning in her voice. “I cannot wait to _go_ home.”

“Soon.” he promised. “Hopefully in time for April’s birthday.”

“Oh, I _do_ hope so!” she huffed. “I _do_ intend to throw her the birthday party she deserves. You will warn Eileen, Johanna and Annie, won’t you?”

“A party.” he repeated, eyeing her with dubiousness. “We can always throw her a belated one, you know. She won’t know better and…”

“My daughter is turning one.” she snapped. “She deserves a birthday party and she _will_ get one. The _best_ one.”

He knew that bossy expression on her face and, while he would normally have argued his point, right then didn’t seem like the best time so he caved with a shrug. “Okay, yeah. Fine.”

They still had more than two whole weeks to plan and adjust if necessary. He hoped Aidan would be released by then. Effie, he didn’t think they would keep much longer than necessary since she had been there for so long but the baby… He had no clue how long they would keep him.

“Mother can probably help.” she added as an afterthought.

He had no doubt Elindra would love nothing more than planning a party but he was also certain _he_ wouldn’t like the kind of parties she would come up with. And besides… “Look… Not that she really complained or anything but… You mother could really use a break, sweetheart.”

Realization dawned on her face, quickly followed by guilt and shame. He hadn’t been the only one taking care of her during the last couple of months and he wasn’t the only one ready to crash and burn. She cleared her throat, reporting her attention on their son, gently rocking him.

“Perhaps Lyssa would be willing to help, then.” she suggested. “Mother told me several times she really wanted to visit but…”

“We didn’t want you to be too crowded.” he confirmed. They hadn’t kept her sister at bay to be mean but there already had been a lot of people around her. “From what I got from Tadius, she’s gonna be here in a few days. With the kids and the boyfriend.”

“Really?” she asked, eyebrows lifting high in surprise. “She is bringing her boyfriend to Twelve?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask me.”

He wasn’t exactly _thrilled_ by that development. He didn’t feel they needed more extended family and he wasn’t really in any mood to play nice with a typical Capitol elite lawyer. Still, he kind of _liked_ Lyssandra. They had talked on the phone a few times since Effie was in the clinic. She called to get news every two days like clockwork, Elindra usually answered but sometimes he was alone in the house and was forced to take the call.

Her sister wasn’t what he had expected.

Effie had always been very guarded on the subject. Jealous and defensive, even. And after the war… Well after the war, it had grown worse. The execution of her sister’s husband… From what he had gotten of their dynamics, Effie had always been the one keeping her sister at bay and Lyssa the one who had tried to mend bridges. After her husband’s death though… Lyssa had wanted to do nothing with her sister. She had turned _cruel_.

People could turn cruel when they lost someone they loved more than anything, nobody knew that better than him.

Lyssa seemed to sincerely regret the way she had treated Effie and she seemed eager to be close to her again. He would have done _anything_ for his brother and he had troubles imagining a different sibling dynamic. Plus, she seemed _genuinely_ kind, which was rare for a Capitol. When she asked after April or Effie or even himself, he didn’t detect any hidden motives or the bored undertone that meant she was asking only to be polite. It made it easier for him to like her.

So, no, he didn’t mind her coming to Twelve to see Effie and the new baby because he knew that if they had let her, she would have been there for weeks already, because she was fretting about her sister’s health on the other side of the country and she desperately wanted to help. He didn’t really mind the prospect of Effie’s nephews running around either. The kids were nice for Capitol brats and they would keep Snowball busy – which was good because the dog had been a little neglected lately and would probably love to have someone to play with. But being forced in the company of a stranger he would probably hate on sight…

“She probably wants me to meet him.” Effie hummed, distracted by the small cries Aidan was letting out. “It must be serious.”

Haymitch wasn’t interested, rubbing his forehead because he had learned the signs in the last twenty-eight hours. And, surely enough, after a minute, Aidan was _wailing_. For a premature baby, the kid _sure_ had good lungs.

“Oh, no, no, no… Darling…” Effie chided with only tenderness. “That is not done. Gentlemen do not make such raucous…”

“Might be time for his bottle.” he mumbled, standing up. His knees popped and he winced. “I’m gonna check with the nurse. You’re good to hold him or…”

She hesitated. He saw the yearning flash on her face, knew that what she really wanted was to _never_ let their child go again… He also knew she would always put the baby’s safety first. That was the rule with April and what went for her went for Aidan.

“You should put him back in the crib.” she admitted, briefly cradling him closer to her chest so she could pepper his face with kisses before handing him over. He settled the baby back in and then studied her but she only waved a dismissive hand. “I am fine, just tired. I will wait here.” He was quick in locating the nurse and securing a bottle for their son. Effie frowned when she saw its size. “So little? Isn’t he going to go hungry?”

“He’s getting his full, don’t worry.” he reassured her. “It’s just… He’s still small. We can’t give him too much in one setting.”

“Oh. Alright.” she accepted. “May I feed him?”

He gave her a glance over. “You feel strong enough?”

“Yes.” she eagerly nodded. “Please.”

She hadn’t wanted to hold the baby while she was alone and he figured that meant she was feeling the strain but with him there… They could probably make it work.

It was slow work to get the baby in her arms again, mainly because he was now wailing at the top of his lungs, clearly unhappy with the rest of the world. No amount of cooing at him calmed him down either. It was only once Effie had him in the crook of her elbow and his mouth latched on the teat that he stopped crying. Haymitch kept a hand under his body to help her bear the – admittedly light – weight.

They had barely finished giving him the bottle when the nurses came to take Effie back to her room.

It was agony to watch her say goodbye to their son, pleading with the nurses to be allowed to sing him a lullaby, to stay until he was asleep… He had to tell himself, again and again, that it would be over soon, that they would all go home…

_Soon_.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	68. 11 Months & 5 Days

“Would you _quit_ this childish _foolishness_!” Elindra snapped, placing her hands on her hips in the authoritative stance that had terrified Effie in her childhood.

Effie barely paid it any attention now. She was pacing the length of her hospital room, clutching the stuffed giraffe Eileen had brought for Aidan earlier that morning to her chest…

The place felt so strange now that the flowers, the colorful paintings and everything that had made it _hers_ was gone. She might have hated it but she had been in there for almost ten weeks and it had been… Well, _home_ might have been too strong a term for it but it had become familiar, a cell with another name, and the prospect of _leaving_ , of being _allowed_ to leave…

It had been five days since she had given birth and Larcher had declared the previous day that she would be free to go that morning. The surgical wound was healing nicely, she didn’t need constant supervision anymore, she could spend the rest of her recovery at home, she could start living a normal life again although she would need to be careful not to do too many strenuous activities for a while… She had been overjoyed when she had been told. At least until she had understood Aidan wouldn’t be coming with her.

“I do not want to leave him.” she snapped. “I do not understand why I cannot stay with him until he is released. This is ridiculous. I…”

“Euphemia.” her mother hissed, clearly out of patience.

Her suitcases were already in the car her father had rented to take her home, Haymitch had come and gone to kiss her and tell her he would stay with Aidan and that she should just go home and relax and enjoy… Enjoy what?

_April and the children… Snowball… Being in your own house, free to roam as you please, free to walk out of the room at any time, free of professional hands handling your body…_

The voice of reason at the back of her head was weak and it wasn’t enough to quell her dread. “What if they take him away?”

Without her there to protect him…

“Who is that _they_ supposed to be?” her mother asked, lips pursed. Elindra’s coat was on, her purse was wedged under her armpit as she held out Effie’s pink jacket.

Effie wasn’t even sure she would fit in that jacket. It was a piece of clothing from _before_. Before she had spent months in a hospital room. Before she had spent months _trapped_ once more. Nothing had fitted her after she had been released the first time. She had been skinnier than a corpse and…

_Not the same thing_ , the little voice calmly objected.

And it wasn’t.

She pushed her loose hair back, annoyed by its length, and caught a whiff of the expensive perfume her father had gifted her with a couple of days ago. The smell was strong, a bit musky, but so very much _not_ _rot_ that it helped her breathe a little better. The blue long sleeves dress she had on clung to her body and she could barely _bear_ to see herself so… _misshaped_. It wasn’t just the remnant of her pregnant belly – she hadn’t gotten as big for Aidan as she had with April and now that the baby was gone it fell strangely flat even if it was still budging – it was how tiny her arms looked, her thighs… All her muscles seemed to have melt away during the weeks of forced bed rest.

She felt like she had after her rescue, like at the beginning of her first pregnancy: a stranger in her own body. It _wasn’t_ hers. And yet it was. It was a strange dichotomy she had troubles reconciling with.

“Effie.” her mother called, a little harsh.

She came back to earth with a start and turned to her, making an effort to remember the conversation at hand. She wasn’t being released from the hospital after her stay in prison, she was being discharged after her delivery.

“I don’t know.” she admitted.

“Of course, you do not.” Elindra sighed. “Because _nobody_ will try to steal that child. Why, for one thing they would have to go through your husband and I would like to see anyone try.”

_Haymitch was with Aidan so Aidan was safe_.

She touched her face with shaky fingers. “And I can come see him when I want. I could go home and just come back in a few hours.”

“Yes.” Elindra confirmed, shaking the jacket she was still holding pointedly. “Now, _your daughter_ is waiting at home. Don’t you want to see her?  What about that dog of yours… I know you are overly fond of him. Haven’t you missed him?”

“Yes…” she whispered.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, finally slipping her arms in the pink jacket’s sleeves. It fitted like a glove. She flipped her hair over the collar with the hand that wasn’t holding the giraffe, pursing her lips at how unmanageable it had become. It easily reached the middle of her back now – when it was _curly_ – and she was losing fistfuls of it – which was apparently normal after a pregnancy.

“You need a haircut.” Elindra observed, her own lips pursed.

“I really, _really_ do.” she agreed even though she couldn’t see herself taking the time to go to a salon any time soon. Perhaps the hairdresser would be willing to come around the house. That was the positive side to small Districts where everyone knew everyone else, people were always happy to do favors to each other. “I apologize. I…”

“Oh, it is alright.” her mother dismissed impatiently. “Now, we really need to go, dear.”

Effie nodded and took the few steps that brought her out of the room. She forced herself not to look back, feeling stupid. She had spent weeks wishing to leave and now the hospital room felt like the only safe place on the planet.

She had been missing her cell too at first. Sometimes. Not that she had admitted as much to anyone, not even Haymitch. There had been comfort in the familiarity, in the walls surrounding her, fencing her in but protecting her too.

The walk to the clinic’s main doors was overwhelming. She smiled at the nurses who wished her a speedy recovery, nodded at those who waved her goodbye… She was barely breathing when they finally stepped outside and into the warm sunlight of April.

Being outside after so long… Feeling the soft breeze on her face… The familiar smells…

“Oh dear.” Elindra muttered with irritation.

Effie didn’t know what had alarmed her so. Her mind was having troubles making the difference between the last time she had been allowed outside after being trapped in a cell for so long and… She barely noticed the reporters hanging in front of the clinic in clutches. There were cameras, flashes… Questions hurled at  her head…

_Effie, how’s your baby?_

_Is it a boy or a girl?_

_Is it true the baby was stillborn?_

The last one hit her straight in the chest and she startled, looking around in confusion. Aidan… She needed to return to Aidan…

“What an absolute _nonsense_!” her mother exclaimed next to her, gripping her elbow hard and dragging her more than guiding her toward a grey car.

_Elindra, are you going back to the Capitol soon?_

_Are the rumors that you will move to Twelve permanently true?_

_Effie, can you tell us about…_

The car’s door slammed shut behind her mother and Effie blinked, running her palms on the leather seat, surprised not to feel cold calloused stone.

But she wasn’t in her cell anymore.

She wasn’t…

“Plutarch Heavensbee has _a lot_ to answer for, let me tell you.” her mother raged after having told the hired driver to take them home. “Why, he _promised_ press wouldn’t be allowed in the District until the situation was resolved. Your husband will be _furious_.”

“Mother?” she whispered, rubbing her mouth. “When are we?”

It was probably a testament to the last couple of months that Elindra didn’t even blink at that question. She had seen enough of her panic attacks by now to know the signs and the symptoms as well as Haymitch did. “You are in Twelve, Euphemia. The war is over. You are safe. We are going home.”

“Home.” she repeated. “ _My_ home.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. A warm yellow kitchen, a cozy living-room slightly untidy with children toys, the dog sprawled in front of the fireplace… “With April and the children.” Yes, she could picture it and it went a long way in helping her stay calm. “Aidan and Haymitch…”

“Are still at the hospital.” Elindra finished, patting her hand. “Your father stayed behind too. Do you remember?”

She did.

She wanted to go back for her son.

But Haymitch was with him and their daughter was at home. And she also wanted to see her. And the children.

She let out a long deep breath, licked her lips and nodded. “My apologies.”

“They are not necessary.” her mother rebuked without heat. “You are hardly responsible. I did not expect to be _ambushed_ by the press either. Why, I would have worn different shoes.” Elindra scoffed. “Are you in pain, darling? I have your medicine right here. Doctor Larcher _did_ say…”

“No.” she refused. The painkillers made her drowsy and she hated that.

It wasn’t a long trip from the clinic to the house and soon the car slowed down to a stop. Effie stepped out with a mix of impatience and apprehension at coming back to a place she loved so much after so long. The familiar honking of the geese greeted her as they wandered around the yard…

“I _told_ Haymitch to lock them in this morning.” Elindra complained.

Effie didn’t truly mind, she pushed the gate open, keeping an eye on the birds but mostly eager to reach the front door… It opened when she was halfway there and the only thing she saw was the white tornado that shot out of the house and straight for her.

“Easy, Snowball!” Katniss called behind the dog. “Snowball, no! Down! _Down_!”

She supposed the girl was wary of the Samoyed hurting her but Effie could only laugh as the dog jumped around her, barking and whining in turns, his tail wiggling hard, so happy his bladder gave in…

She was worried he would accidentally hit her in the stomach so she sank to her knees, ignoring her mother’s pleas for her to be sensible, and embraced the dog.

“I missed you too, my pretty baby.” she cooed. “ _So_ _much_. I will _never_ leave you again… Oh, how I have missed you…”

“Mama! Bow!” her daughter chirped, escaping Peeta to run the short distance between the porch and them. The commotion with the dog had fortunately scattered the geese but April wasn’t entirely steady on her legs yet and with the speed she took, it was no wonder she toppled over. Effie caught her before she could hurt herself too badly though. The baby hiccupped as if she was going to cry, afraid maybe by the impressive almost fall, but Snowball licked her whole face and she started laughing instead, tossing her chubby arms around the dog’s neck. “Bow!”

Snowball was so happy he was whining, butting his head against Effie’s, nuzzling her chest only to turn and lick at April’s face or arm…

It was a few minutes before Elindra managed to tear them all apart, ranting all the while about proper behavior and tossing fretful glances around in case the neighbors had seen. It took Peeta’s help to get Effie back on her feet without hurting herself. Snowball didn’t move from her side, he walked at the same speed she did and regularly nudged her leg so she would scratch his head. She couldn’t carry April, not yet, so she held her hand and patiently waited for her daughter to put one foot in front of the other.

It was a slow process but they eventually managed to enter the house.

Everything felt the same but a bit different at the same time.

For one, there were baby gates at the bottom and at the top of the stairs as well as on the living-room’s door to prevent April from walking around unsupervised. She briefly wondered how that worked out with Snowball but the dog quickly demonstrated by jumping over the gate when he realized they were headed toward the living-room.

“I’m going to put one on the kitchen door and her bedroom too.” Peeta told her when he saw her looking. “Haymitch didn’t have time with Aidan and all… It’s safer this way.”

“Thank you.” she smiled at him.

“Do you want some tea?” Katniss offered, dashing into the kitchen before she had time to answer. “I have your strawberry one.”

She was ill-at-ease for a moment and she only realized why when her mother urged her to go to the living-room, sit down and get herself comfortable.

They were behaving as if they were at home – which was fine – except it was _her home_. She was not a guest. She was not…

April curled up against her side, snatching the rag doll from the couch where it had been abandoned, sucking on her thumb, staring at her. Effie glanced at the clock, lunch time wasn’t far away and the girl must have been hungry and a little tired. She ran her fingers in her blond hair, happy to realize she would be able to feed her for the first time in forever… She had missed this. The little daily things.

Snowball hopped on the couch and sprawled on her other side, pushing his head on her lap, rolling on his back until she rolled her eyes and scratched his belly…

Katniss brought her a mug of tea and her mother hastily picked up some clothes belonging to April that had been left on the armchair, muttering under her breath about Haymitch _always_ leaving a mess and her not being a maid… The children debated what to have for lunch behind her back…

At no point did anyone ask her opinion.

Effie kept her peace but annoyance bubbled.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful. She _was_. They had all gone above and beyond what she could have expected of them but… This was her house, her home, and they made her feel like a stranger in it.

She busied herself cuddling her dog and her daughter while sipping from the mug of tea. Lunch was a nice affair but the well-rehearsed routine they all had going on made her feel on edge. When had her mother _ever_ helped set the table before _in her life_? She watched her and Katniss place plates and cutlery with wide eyes.

Peeta handed her the bowl with April’s meal, hiding his smile. “She was hard to train.”

Effie smiled back in amusement, relaxing a little.

Being able to feed April was _good_. Being able to read her a story to lull her to sleep once the boy had put her in her crib afterward was even better.

She _was_ starting to feel a little tired when she walked back downstairs, clutching the baby monitor in her hand.

Katniss and Peeta had left after lunch. He had to go back to the bakery but Katniss had promised she would hang out around her house and that Effie shouldn’t hesitate to call if she needed anything. Elindra was very busy tinkering with the framed photographs on the fireplace mantle. Apparently they weren’t arranged properly enough.

“Ah, there you are.” her mother exclaimed when she spotted her on the threshold. Not that she was hard to miss given that Snowball still wouldn’t leave her out of his sight. “Do you need anything? I noticed you did not take the painkillers along with your medicines. You should _not_ overdo it, Euphemia. There is no shame in…”

“I thought perhaps you would like to get some alone time with Father this afternoon.” she cut her off before she could launch herself in a rant about medication. She had no intention of taking the painkillers if she could help it. Maybe before she went to bed and even then it wasn’t a given. She didn’t like how they made her feel and she didn’t trust herself not to become dependent on them in the long run. She could be weak where pills were concerned. “You do not need to stay with me. I can manage. And Katniss is next door if I need anything.”

Hurt flashed on Elindra’s face. “I see.”

Effie winced, feeling bad. “No, that is _not_ what I meant. I…”

“No, no. You have been very clear.” her mother snapped. “I _simply_ wanted to help, that is all, but…”

“ _No_. Mother…” she interrupted her again, passing a hand on her face. “I am _so_ very grateful for all you have done, for staying here and for… We would _never_ have managed without you and… I _am_ so very grateful. I just… I haven’t been alone in _forever_ …”

“For good reasons. You will forgive me for saying so.” Elindra commented with a vexed huff.

“Yes.” she sighed because that was the truth. “But… Mother, this does not even feel like my house anymore. You have all done _more_ than anyone could hope for but…”

“But you need some alone time.” Elindra accepted with a sigh of her own. Her mother studied her attentively for a long moment and then pursed her lips. “I _suppose_ if you are certain and if you _promise_ to _rest_ … I _did_ see some shoes in town that did not look _entirely_ horrible. And I would not mind a strawberry frappuccino from your friend’s coffee shop. They _are_ rather tasty.”

“Oh…” she beamed. “Would you bring me one back?”

It took some more convincing and a lot of promising that she would be alright but eventually Elindra relented and left the house. As soon as the door closed behind her, Effie breathed a sigh of relief. She tried to relax on the couch for a while but when she turned on the TV it tuned in to a news channel that was showing her release from the clinic. She looked absolutely ridiculous standing there, stunned, clutching the stuffed giraffe that had now _suspiciously_ gone missing – she was certain she would find it in the dog’s bed though.

In the end, she ended up roaming the house even if she was really starting to be in pain. Nothing she couldn’t handle but still…

She visited every room, taking in of the changes her mother had brought and making mental notes as to what she wanted to keep and what she wanted to revert. She checked on April who was still sleeping and then told herself she would only peek in the nursery she hadn’t yet had a chance to take a look at before _finally_ lying down on her own bed. She had missed her bed. She had missed her room. She had missed going to sleep without the beeping of machines or nurses poking inside the room to check on her.

But once she had opened the nursery’s door with the bright _Aidan_ letters stuck on it, she couldn’t move.

It was absolutely _perfect_.

She felt tears threatening to spill because… Haymitch had done an _amazing_ job.

The only thing missing was their son.

She ended up sitting on the rocking-chair, Snowball lying down on the carpet at her feet.

She must have dozed off because next thing she knew, the dog bumped against the door when he scrambled off with a joyful bark. She realized there were noises coming from the baby monitor still clutched in her hand and she felt guilty. She shouldn’t have sent her mother away when April might need someone _able_.

She hurried into her daughter’s room, smiling when she found the girl sitting in her crib, playing with her stuffed toys.

“Hello, darling. Did you have a good nap?” she hummed, reaching inside the crib and stopping herself at the last minute. She leaned against the wooden crib, a little short of breath. She knew the pain was normal and to be expected, it was already much less than the very first day, but still… “Mama cannot carry you yet. Don’t you worry, I will call Aunt Katniss…”

“No need.”

She startled badly and turned around, a hand pressed against her chest in fright.

Haymitch was smirking even though she glared at him for having scared her. He waved a see-through cup branded with the Clarkes’ coffee shop logo full of a pink grainy ice cream and she couldn’t help but grin, snatching it from his hand before he could comment on her obsession for anything strawberry flavored.

“Aidan?” she asked after having taken a sip of her frappuccino.

He chuckled when April used the bars to pull herself upright, immediately waving her arms in the air.

“Dada!” the girl demanded.

“Yeah, princess, I’m coming. Hold your horses.” he snorted, lifting her up and propping her on his hip before finally turning to answer her question. “Your mother said she would sit with him for a while. She said you were… _fretting_.”

“I was _not_.” she huffed, coming closer to press a kiss on her daughter’s cheek. April was far more interested by her frappuccino though and Effie let her have one sip. “Is it safe for him to be alone? I do not like this. I…”

“He’s in a clinic full of nurses with his grandparents.” he cut her off, bowing to capture the straw. Everyone was stealing her snack and she pouted but didn’t outright protest. “I’d _hardly_ call that alone, sweetheart.”

“I should…” she started only to be interrupted by a peck on her lips.

“You should go and get some sleep.” he declared. “If you feel up to it we can go back to the clinic when you wake up.”

He looked tired. He had dark bags under his eyes. And yet she knew he would insist on spending the night at the hospital anyway. She wished she could _help_ but if Larcher caught her trying to sleep on an armchair, there would be a _stern_ lecture.

She brushed her fingers against his cheek, smiling softy when he leaned into the caress. “I love you.”

“Was thinking… We could take April later, yeah?” he suggested, excitement creeping in his voice. “I haven’t showed him to her yet… I was waiting for you for that… We could introduce them. You can take her home with your mom after, yeah? Your father is keeping the car and the driver until you’re good to walk around. At least that’s what he said. I don’t think he likes walking too much himself.”

Introducing April and Aidan was a nice thought and she nodded enthusiastically. The prospect was such a happy one that she didn’t protest when he insisted she got some proper rest. Lying down in her bed, between sheets that didn’t smell like hospital detergent, was _paradise._ It wasn’t long before Snowball jumped on the bed and occupied Haymitch’s side and she fell asleep hugging him.

She could hear Haymitch playing with April in the girl’s bedroom and it wasn’t hard to imagine their new baby in his nursery.

She was at home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Effie is hooooome! Next step is to bring the baby back! Elindra is also maybe going to strangle Plutarch on her daughter's behalf! Did you enjoy this chapter? Let me know!


	69. 11 Months & 8 Days

Haymitch had troubles crossing the front yard to the front door with the geese honking and flapping their wings all around him but he pushed through, careful not to step on any of the birds.

“Looks like you’ve got a welcoming committee, jellyfish.” he chuckled, glancing down at the small baby wrapped up tight so he wouldn’t get cold that he was cradling in his arms. “You think Mama’s gonna like her surprise? I think she will…”

He couldn’t stop smiling.

He didn’t even care that he had caught a few flashes in the corner of his eyes while he was slowly making the walk from the hospital to the Village. His phone call to Plutarch on the day of Effie’s release had been enough to clear most of the press out of Twelve but there were some journalists desperate for a scoop left. The former Gamemaker claimed he couldn’t do anything about those but everyone knew better. Plutarch just liked to feed the news cycle with what _he_ liked so he could burry the real matters at the bottom of the pile.

Haymitch had been spending his nights at the clinic while Effie took most of the day’s shift at their son’s side. And that morning, Larcher had surprised him by declaring the boy was free to go. There would be home visits for a few more days but they were _finally_ allowed to take him home. Maybe he should have waited for Effie but the moment he had heard he was allowed to bring Aidan home, he had been desperate to do so at once.

And now there he was, struggling to juggle between the bag of baby clothes that had gathered at the hospital and that he had tossed over his shoulder and the precious bundle in his arms.

It was early enough that the front door was still locked. He grumbled under his breath but walked around the house, still mindful of the growing gaggle, to the back door. That one was ajar. Snowball was lying half inside and half outside and he lifted his head when he spotted his approach, barked twice and rushed over with that same puppy enthusiasm he had never lost.

“Good boy.” Haymitch praised. “Sit down. Sit down.” The dog obediently sat down but kept wriggling, clearly dying to give him a proper hello. Just like he had done for April a year earlier, Haymitch crouched down and carefully presented the baby. “Look at that… That’s your new buddy. Name’s Aidan. You’re gonna take care of him too, yeah? Just like the shrimp…”

Snowball sniffed the baby all over and then sneezed twice, shaking his head. Haymitch figured Aidan must still have smelt like the hospital but the dog came back to sniff him some more, eventually, looking up at Haymitch, his tongue hanging out…

“You’re gonna have to give those stuffed toys back now.” he warned, standing up. The Samoyed tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, I’m not buying the innocent act any more than Effie does.”

He went straight into the kitchen, the dog following close by, and was first puzzled to find April alone in her high chair munching on an apricot – and he _purposefully_ didn’t wonder how their daughter had gotten there given that Elindra had moved out of the house and to the inn to have some time with Tadius and that Effie wasn’t really supposed to lift heavy things yet. They didn’t leave her alone as a rule, and certainly not with the door open…

“Dada!” the baby gurgled happily, dropping the apricot to wave her arms in the air. Haymitch’s arms were already full though and he barely had time to open his mouth to greet her when Effie’s voice drifted from the utility room.

“Yes, my darling, Papa will be here soon!” she promised. “Just let me get a head start on this laundry and we will play until he gets here…”

Transferring Aidan into his left arm, he pressed his finger against his lips for April’s benefits. The meaning wasn’t entirely lost on her but she giggled so much she almost gave it away anyway. Still, he planted three silent kisses on her cheeks on his way to the laundry room where Effie was busy stuffing the washing machine.

Snowball darted past him and sat at her feet, barking a couple of times. That woke up Aidan who had so far been a trooper about the trip. His wailing didn’t show any sign of becoming any less piercing with time…

Effie startled but not as badly as she might have if he had just appeared behind her – and maybe he should have thought _that_ through. Her wide blue eyes fell on Haymitch’s face first and then on the baby in his arms… For a second, she was clearly confused and stunned but then she _beamed_ and almost tore him out of his arms.

“Easy.” he reminded her, more worried about her mending wound than she was.

“How… When…” she started asking, gently rocking the baby. “Oh, you should have _said!_ We would have been ready for a proper welcome and…”

“Larcher released him this morning… Couldn’t wait, sweetheart.” he shrugged, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“No matter. No matter.” she dismissed, her whole attention on their baby boy. After a minute, she looked up at him, all teary. “I cannot believe it… I…”

“I know.” he smirked, leaning in to plant a long kiss on her lips.

It seemed like they had gone through _hell_ to finally get there.

“Mama!” April called from the kitchen and Haymitch quickly left the laundry room to lift up their daughter and cuddle her close, nuzzling her neck with his nose until she laughed.

“Did you have a good night sleep, princess?” he asked. “Did you take good care of Mama for me?”

“She took _excellent_ care of me.” Effie hummed, smiling at Aidan, gently clucking her tongue to make him stop crying. April was straining her neck to see what all the commotion was about so Haymitch stepped closer. Effie leaned against his side, pressing a quick kiss on their girl’s hand. “Your little bother is not really happy, is he? He does not know his home yet. Do you want to give him a tour, sweetie?”

Haymitch didn’t think April had really understood the baby thing yet. They had showed him to her at the hospital but she hadn’t been very interested, more captivated by the stuffed toys than by her brother.

Right then, she wrinkled her little nose and rested her head on Haymitch’s shoulder.

“No.” she said very clearly.

“New word.” he commented, amused.

“Mama.” she demanded, her lips wobbling, outstretching a hand. Her voice increased in volume to match Aidan’s wailing. “Mama!”

“Mama can’t carry you right now, shrimp, you’ve gotta learn to share. But that’s alright. I’m here, yeah?” He tried to appease things. “You’re with Papa, that’s the same…”

“Mama!” April screamed, so hard she got red in the face.

It only made the baby cry harder and Effie rocked him a little harder, at a loss for what to do. “Perhaps we should switch?”

“Ain’t sure we should indulge _that_ behavior.” he grumbled.

“It is only the first day. We knew it would be an adjustment…” she pointed out.

Switching wasn’t as easy as it seemed. It required him putting April down to take the baby and then Effie lifting her up – even though, as he insisted, she _wasn’t supposed_ to.

Their daughter didn’t calm down once she was in her arms though.

“Dada, no!” she screamed, now reaching for Haymitch from her mother’s arms as he tried – and failed – to calm Aidan down.

“Your brother is here to stay, April.” Effie chided her gently. “And _truly_ … Ladies do _not_ shout so. Hush, will you? _Hush little baby don’t you cry_ …”

The lullaby seemed like a good idea so Haymitch joined in and, for a miraculous handful of seconds, both April and Aidan grew quiet.

A handful of seconds.

Then the baby started wailing again and April threw her first real temper tantrum. Obviously Snowball must have felt he had to join too because he was soon _howling –_ prompting the geese outside to honk like crazy birds.

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a spooked look.

“Why did we think this was a good idea again?” he asked, forced to shout to be heard over the noise.

The kids came running in at that point, clothes in disarray as if they had dressed in a hurry, worried look on their faces… Peeta smiled when he spotted Aidan but Katniss shook her head, grabbed his arm and dragged him back to their own house, muttering all the while about how they were _not_ getting involved in this madness. She, at least, closed the door which cut them from the racket the geese were making.

The babies, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to shut up.

“Haymitch, what if we cannot do this?” Effie started to panic, shifting her weight from one foot to the next, clearly feeling the strain of carrying their one year-old daughter. “What if two was too much? What if…”

“ _Okay_.” Haymitch snapped, cutting her off. He nudged the dog with his foot first thing, not hard enough to hurt but giving a good enough shove that Snowball stopped his antics. “Be a good dog and _shut up._ Now, _you…_ ” He turned to Effie. “Go sit on the couch.”

“But…” she argued.

“Trust me.” he interrupted. “On the couch.”

She hesitated but relented, struggling to keep hold of the enraged girl in her arms. He wasn’t even sure what April was screaming now. She was hiccupping, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, shouting for her Dada, Snowball, Mama and saying _no_ in between.

Effie couldn’t hide her relief once she was sitting down. She placed the screaming girl next to her so she could press her hand against her stomach, watching with wide terrified eyes as April rolled and hit the cushions like an infuriated beast.

Haymitch loved his daughter to death but he didn’t want her to become a brat, one year old or not, and he wasn’t going to tolerate that sort of tantrum.

“ _Enough_.” he roared, load enough to cover everything.

It must have frightened the girl because she stopped screaming mid-hiccup.

Haymitch carefully handed the baby over to Effie and lifted April under her armpits, flopping down on the couch and placing her on his lap.

“The _fuck_ are you trying to pull, uh?” he grumbled.

“Language.” Effie hissed. “Do not _dare_ talk like that to our daughter.”

He tossed her an annoyed glance but turned his attention back on April quickly enough, leaving it to Effie to deal with their son.

“Listen to me, princess.” he said seriously. “Mama and Dada love you. But we love Aidan too. Yeah?”

“No.” April stubbornly sulked.

“ _Yes_.” he insisted. He also snorted, even though he probably shouldn’t have, because she looked far too much like Effie when she was sulking. “And you’re gonna love him too ‘cause he’s your brother. You know what that means?”

“No.” she repeated stubbornly.

“I _swear_ she did _not_ know that word last night.” Effie complained. She had been humming and Aidan had grown a little quieter. Less tears and more gurgling. “Do you think he might be hungry?”

“He ate before we left the clinic.” Haymitch shook his head. “We have a stock of pacifiers, yeah? He might like one…”

“I will try that.” she decided, extracting herself from the couch with the baby to fetch it.

April watched her go, her sulk deepening. Haymitch poked her in the tummy, tickling her under the knee until he got her attention again.

“Alright, sweetheart.” he whispered. “Now, this little guy here… Screams a lot, makes a lot of noises… He’s gonna be your best buddy in the world.”

“No.” April insisted.

“ _Yes_.” he retorted just as Effie sat back down, a blissfully _quiet_ Aidan sucking on his pacifier. “Now you’re thinking we’re replacing you with him, that there won’t be room for you anymore… But that’s _bullshit_.”

“Again. _Language_.” Effie hissed.

“Look.” He placed her between him and Effie. “See how this works? Room for everyone… And the best thing…” He gently reached out to take the baby. Effie let got but only very reluctantly and she kept her hands ready to intervene when she understood what he had in mind. He put Aidan on April’s outstretched legs, keeping a hand on the baby’s back. “He’s yours too now, shrimp. Your own jellyfish.”

April watched the baby warily. Eventually, she grabbed the tiny hand that was waving around at random.

“Be careful she does not squeeze too tight.” Effie worried, ready to snatch Aidan away.

“Let them get to know each other.” he told her.

“She is a baby herself, Haymitch.” she argued. “She doesn’t get…”

Aidan’s fingers closed around April’s hand and their daughter laughed as if it was the best thing. Next she patted his head…

“Easy, he’s fragile, sweetheart.” Haymitch chuckled, making sure she wasn’t hurting him. “See? He’s not so bad, yeah? You like your jellyfish.”

“Eli…” she babbled and when Snowball padded over and rested his head on Effie’s lap, April wrinkled her nose. “Bowl, no. Mama… Dada… Bowl, Pil…” 

He wasn’t sure he really got whatever rant she was on but he figured she was trying to tell her brother she was willing to share everyone but the dog.

It figured.

Sometimes it felt like she loved that dog more than she loved any of them.

Effie stretched her arm on the back of the couch and Haymitch turned his head so he could rest his cheek on it, smiling when she distractedly started playing with his hair, her eyes on their children.

They _did_ make the most beautiful kids.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aidan is hooooome! Let me know your thoughts!


	70. 12 Months & 2 Weeks

April’s birthday party was a smash.

Finn, Eileen’s girls, Timotheo, Bryden and April were having the time of their young lives running around the backyard and Effie couldn’t help but smile when she saw Baby Fanny and April trying to keep up with Finn who was himself trying to keep up with her nephews and Eileen’s eldest: Livy. Snowball was either chasing them or being chased, eager to play and being cuddled. The adults all seemed to be having a good time too. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the air smelt like spring and it was warm enough that they had all shed their jackets.

Her parents were having a polite conversation with Annie; Haymitch, Jo and Liam Clarke were laughing near the pen; Lyssa, her boyfriend and Eileen were keeping an eye on the children; Katniss and Peeta were sitting at the table they had dragged outside… Effie couldn’t help but smile when she saw them kissing. They did that in front of people more and more often. She hated to have caused so much trouble to everyone during her pregnancy but it seemed to have made the children grow closer.

Even Katniss… She had been different since she had come back from her road trip with Johanna – more confident, a little bit more mature perhaps… But looking at her now, Effie couldn’t help but see _a woman_ where the young girl used to stand. She had blossomed at some point, had shed the shell of the burned damaged bird and evolved into someone new. Someone who was now able to let Peeta know how much he counted for her. And Peeta… Well, it had been a long time since Peeta had been _a boy_ but she was proud of the man he was today.

It had been a long road and it left her with a bittersweet feeling.

The children didn’t rely on them as much as they used to, if anything it was _Haymitch and her_ who kept asking for favors. And it was natural, she supposed, but watching Katniss and Peeta grow up into independent functional adults was a little sad because they didn’t need them anymore. Yet she was _so proud_ of them…

Aidan chirped and she looked down, immediately smiling at her son nestled in the baby sling. He _loved_ the sling, it was the only thing that calmed him down when he was fussy. She gently rubbed his back, shaking her head at her own stupidity while retreating to the kitchen.

“Your mama is very silly.” she chuckled, fetching the pretty plates from the cupboard one-handed. “Katniss and Peeta are going nowhere and we have _at least_ eighteen years of you and April to look forward too. _Nothing_ is ending.” Aidan let out a series of noises and she hummed in agreement. “I know, I am just a little nostalgic. I cannot believe it has been a year already! I feel like I _just_ held your sister in my arms for the first time… Time goes too fast, my darling. It goes too fast…”

“That is _quite_ a melancholic speech for such a small baby.” Lyssa teased as she waltzed in the kitchen as if she owned the place. Not that she meant it that way but… Her sister always seemed to _fill_ the space she occupied.

 A couple of years earlier it would have made Effie bitter. Right then, it just made her smile.

She was happy to see her.

Bryden had caught the flu and Lyssa had been forced to delay her visit, which had disappointed everyone – except perhaps Haymitch who had been desperate for some semblance of normalcy and calm – but it had also made Effie really eager to see her sister, her nephews and the infamous boyfriend.

“How _is_ my precious nephew?” Lyssandra asked, outstretching her arms in an implicit request. Cradling the baby closer was instinctive but she forced herself to take a deep breath and to remind herself that Aidan was as safe as could be, healthy, and that her sister was not going to hurt him. If anything, Lyssa had fallen in love with him at first glance. She carefully handed the baby over with an unnecessary reminder to watch out for his head that her sister ignored because she knew how to hold babies. “Hello, my darling.” Lyssa crooned to Aidan’s obvious delight. “Hello… Did you miss me?”

Effie shook her head again, her smile so wide it almost hurt, and kept on piling the good plates on the table, wondering if she could take the cake out by herself or if she should ask Peeta for help. The cake was _huge_ and occupied half the space in her fridge. He had outdone himself. It was shaped like a castle covered in pink frosting with little fairytale characters on it…

She had taken a thousand pictures of every angle.

Then again, she had been taking picture after picture for _days_.

“So…” Lyssa drew the word out. Her tone was a mix of excitement and mischief and Effie knew her sister’s gossip face enough to know she should forget all about the cake and pay attention. “What do you think of him?”

There was no doubt as to whom she was referring to and Effie automatically glanced through the window over the sink, immediately spotting the lawyer in his turquoise blue suit. The groups had mixed since she had retreated to the kitchen: Jo and Annie were with Katniss and Peeta now, Eileen and Liam were having a friendly – or as friendly as could be but they had learned to know each other in the last couple of months – chat with Elindra and Tadius had joined Haymitch. Her father and her husband were now talking with Lyssa’s boyfriend and from Haymitch’s stance alone, she could tell it was going relatively well.

She hadn’t had many interactions with him yet. He had come with Lyssa to meet the new baby but she and her sister had had a lot to say to each other and aside from noticing he had perfect manners and didn’t seem too conceited, she didn’t have much time to form an educated opinion.

She _had_ noticed the boys seemed to like him a lot though. And she had yet to see him dismiss either of them when they came to him. He seemed happy to bond with Lyssa’s children and he had seemed even happier to be introduced to the extended family. Not _over-eager_ or _weird_ like people sometimes got around victors and _the Mockingjay_ but… Happy to be _integrated_ into Lyssa’s family.

“He is very handsome.” she answered, peering more closely at him through the window. Then again, she wasn’t expecting her sister to come home with someone who wouldn’t look like a god. She was _far_ too good-looking to attach herself to someone average – or not successful. The lawyer had brown hair that were starting to go grey at the temples, clever green eyes, aristocratic features and a very nice smile. “And he is clearly head over heels for you.”

That much was extremely obvious.

He wasn’t assiduous like she had seen men be with her sister – or with herself – desperate to please and coming out a little pathetic as a result, but he was _attentive_. When she was next to him, he kept at least one hand at the small of her back or on her waist… It was discrete, not a show of being possessive but a genuine mark of affection. His face always softened when he looked at her and every time they talked together he smiled as if she was his whole world.

And she looked at him the same way.

It had been a long time since she had seen Lyssa in love, so happy and, above all, _at_ _peace_.

“We are moving in together.” her sister announced, almost _glowing_ with happiness.

“Truly?” she asked, a little surprised because that was the first she heard of it – and with her mother around, she was usually made aware of gossips _much_ faster. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Lyssa grinned, looking down at Aidan with a small blush. She laughed at her own silliness. “It was becoming a little ridiculous, truth be told… We have been together for almost two years now and… I spent most of my time at his house. I was reluctant to make it more serious because of the children… I did not want them to think… I did not want them to think I was replacing their father…”

“I am certain they understand. And Rufus… He would not have expected you to remain single forever.” Effie offered hesitantly. They had never really _talked_ about Rufus before. Lyssa had blamed her for his death and…

Lyssa didn’t look at her, she rocked Aidan carefully, watching him rather than her. “I do not know what Rufus would have expected. Being with Leo…” She licked her lips. “They are two _very_ different men.”

“To be sure.” she muttered before she could help herself. Mostly because she hadn’t caught Leo staring at the younger women or trying to grope a feel here and there like Rufus had always done with her.

“I was not oblivious.” Lyssandra said suddenly, finally meeting her eyes, a little defiantly. “I know you wondered. I was _not_ oblivious. I knew he had affairs. I pretended I did not know, even to myself sometimes, but… I _loved_ him, Effie.”

“I know you did.” she whispered, reaching out to place a hand on her arm. Lyssa flinched but didn’t shrug it off like she would have four years earlier. “I _am_ sorry. If I had been able to help… For your sake alone I would have…”

“I know.” Lyssa cut her off. “It took me a long time to… let go of my anger. Leo helped a lot with that. Like I said… He is very different from Rufus.” The sadness left her sister’s face to be replace by unmistakable tenderness. “He always puts me first. I never realized how selfish Rufus was until I started dated him. And he is good with the boys. He always knows what to say. And he makes me so happy…”

“Should I prepare Mother for the announcement of upcoming nuptials?” she teased, playing with the butterfly necklace resting on her collarbone.

Lyssa laughed, a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Perhaps but not in the near future. First I need to tell her me and the boys are moving out.”

Which their mother would probably be torn about. On one hand, Leo was a successful lawyer with the right pedigree for her eldest daughter, on the other and for all her claims that the house was too small for so many people, Elindra loved having Lyssa and her sons home.

“She will be sorry she missed the last few months with you.” Effie winced. “And I fear that is my fault.”

“She stood by me for four years.” Lyssa denied. “It was high time she did the same for you.”

“It will be strange not having her around anymore.” she admitted, with more sadness than she had ever thought she would feel at the thought of her mother’s departure. Her parents were scheduled to leave the next day. Her father had used the opportunity to check on his business in Twelve and had made a few trips to Eleven but he couldn’t stay away from the Capitol and the company too long. And Elindra, she knew, was impatient to go back to _civilization_.

“I am glad you _finally_ found each other.” Lyssandra offered, transferring Aidan in her left arm so she could wrap her right arm around Effie’s shoulders. “The rift between you always saddened me.”

Effie hugged her sister tight, closing her eyes and breathing in her favorite perfume with a lump in her throat. “I am so glad _we_ found each other again.”

It felt like it used to be when they were little and Effie worshipped the ground her big sister walked on. It changed afterwards, when she had become a teenager and had grown envious of how proud her parents were of Lyssa. After that… It had never been Lyssandra’s fault but Effie had imposed a distance. And now… She had never thought they could get that close again. 

“ _Hush_ or you will make me cry.” Lyssa protested, her voice cracking as she held her tighter. “I _do_ love you so much, Effie.”

“I love you too.” she whispered, biting down on her bottom lip to try and keep herself collected.

“Everything’s alright?” Haymitch asked, clearly surprised, when he walked in the kitchen only to freeze at the scene they were making.

Tadius had followed him inside and seemed equally taken aback.

They stepped aside, gracefully dabbed at their shiny eyes, exchanged a glance and then pounced on their father like they hadn’t done since they were _very little_ indeed. He actually took a step back, startled when they both hugged him at the same time.

Haymitch swiftly rescued Aidan, muttering to the baby about _crazy_ _Capitols_.

Lyssa and Effie laughed even as Tadius tentatively embraced them back.

It didn’t last more than a few seconds but it was enough for something to definitely settle in Effie. She might doubt sometimes, despite everything, but she knew, deep down, that she had her family back now and that nothing would change that.

Lyssa eventually stepped away and grabbed the plates Effie had taken out of the cupboard before going back outside.

“What has gotten into the two of you?” Tadius asked, still blinking in confusion.

Effie’s only answer was to laugh and plant a kiss on Haymitch’s lips because he looked completely puzzled and it was adorable. 

“I’m guessing you’re having a good day and not a mental breakdown, yeah?” he frowned. “Just checking, sweetheart.”

She swatted his arm and scooped her son back. “Will you take the cake out?”

“What did you think we came here for?” he grumbled, pressing a soft kiss on Aidan’s head.

The cake was welcomed with all the proper exclamations and Peeta’s face grew tomato red with all the compliments he got. Haymitch gave everyone generous portions and helped April eat hers. Effie wasn’t sure their daughter grasped the concept of birthdays but she _did_ love cake and she seemed to be having fun.

She decided that the best picture she had taken that day was the moment April tried to fed Haymitch some cake from her plate by smashing her sugary hand directly on his mouth.

Elindra might have a point when she had lamented over April’s stained dress but it was entirely too cute.

It was less cute when Haymitch handed April over to Peeta and kissed _Effie_ hard on the mouth just to smear frosting over her face. She raged at him but everyone laughed and she ended up kissing back anyway.

“Good thing they broke the mold ‘cause the way they’re going we’d have had a dozen babies before Trinket reached menopause.” Johanna commented, loud above the voices.

Laugher grew tense and awkward and everyone jumped on Annie’s suggestion to have coffee.

“You’re okay?” Haymitch asked, after glaring at Johanna for her tactless remark.

“Of course.” she dismissed, turning to wrap her arms around his neck. “I would not have minded having a dozen babies with you but I am quite happy with the ones we have.”

He pulled her even closer and kissed her again.

He would never have done that in public before April.

“It is high time for the birthday girl to open her gifts!” Elindra declared loudly once Annie had poured everyone some coffee – and truly, Effie should have been the one doing that. She thanked Four’s victor quietly and was rewarded with a small smile and a promise that it didn’t bother her.

Lyssa had somehow gotten a hold on Aidan again and Effie couldn’t help but smile when she saw her sister grinning down at him with open adoration. Leo quietly stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, propping his chin on her shoulder and peering down at the baby. The look on his face…

Perhaps _nuptials_ weren’t the only thing she should prepare her mother for. Lyssa was a little too old for maternity but that was what surrogates were for, she supposed.

Confident her son was safe, she lifted April to sit her down on her lap, peppering her cheek with kisses and helping her unwrap her presents – not that she needed much help on that front because she was very good at _tearing paper_. Haymitch sat next to them, quiet and content to observe and test the toys April received for their daughter’s enjoyment.

There were entirely too many gifts.

She and Haymitch had already gone _slightly_ overboard. They had grabbed almost everything in the toy store they thought she would enjoy… But they hadn’t expected the others to do the same. Effie was actually starting to get concerned with _where_ they would put everything.

“You spoiled her.” she half-complained, half-laughed when Leo pushed another present in front of them – at least the sixth since they had began unwrapping them.

“Well, she is my first niece.” the Capitol man shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I was not quite sure what she would like so I thought better safe than sorry.”

It was a bold move to claim April as his niece given that he was a relative stranger but Lyssa was beaming so hard that Effie couldn’t find it in her to protest. Haymitch shifted a little next to her but she kicked his leg under the table and he kept his peace.

“I like him.” he told her after they were done with the gifts.

April and Fanny were busy with one of the new toys under Eileen’s supervision. Aidan was now in Elindra’s arms and Effie wasn’t sure what her mother was telling her son but it seemed like a long speech. She carefully did not think about what the next day would bring. She doubted it would be any more easier for Elindra to leave April and Aidan than it would be for her to see her parents go. She focused on what Haymitch was saying instead, happily hauling Finn on her lap when he wandered by asking for a cuddle.

“He’s not so bad for a Capitol.” he continued, his eyes on the lawyer who was talking with her father. “Got a sound head and he’s not too full of himself. You think your sister’s gonna keep him?”

“I think it is safe for you to consider him your brother-in-law, yes.” she replied, amused. “You can befriend him.”

He rolled his eyes at her and made a face at Finn. “You know what, buddy? Your aunt is silly.”

“Aunt Effie is _the best_.” Finn retorted loyally. “She always gives cuddles.”

“Ah.” she triumphed, her blue eyes sparkling. “Did you hear that, Haymitch? I am _the best_.”

He shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “That you are, sweetheart… That you are…”

“Uncle Haymitch?”

Haymitch turned to the new voice, always looking a little surprised to be addressed like that by Lyssa’s boys. Bryden stood there uncertainly, a soccer ball under his arm. Effie couldn’t help but smile at how flushed and disheveled the boy looked, certain that Lyssa or Elindra would have something to say about that at some point. Her nephews had been allowed to run wild because it was a party and the other children were all playing but they were still supposed to somehow behave like little gentlemen. Still, it was good to see them act like children for once.

“You need something, kid?” Haymitch asked in a softer voice than the one he used with adults. She had come to think of it as his father’s voice. He always used it when he talked to April or Aidan.

“We were wondering…” Bryden hesitated. “That is to say… Timotheo and I would have liked to play a game of ball but it would be funnier if we could make teams. Would you care to play?”

Haymitch blinked and took that in stride. It was always a little disconcerting for him to see such a small child express himself in such a perfect articulated way. However, given April’s quick appropriation of language, she thought he should get used to it.

“Sure. _I’d care_ to play.” he snorted.

The teasing flew high above the boy’s head and Bryden grinned. “Sweet!”

“Can I play too?” Finn asked, perking up at the thought of playing with the bigger boys.

“You can play with me.” Haymitch agreed, plucking Finn off her lap to settle him on his shoulders, to the child’s obvious delight.

Timotheo came by, dragging Leo with him.

“I see you have been enlisted too.” the Capitol man chuckled.

The two boys soon had their teams but so many people wanted to play that Effie quickly suggested they moved the match to the meadow, wary of her backyard getting destroyed – and of someone accidentally kicking the ball into the geese pen, she didn’t care much for the birds but she didn’t want to see any of them hurt either.

It was a joyful affair.

Those of them who weren’t playing all settled on the grass, on picnic blankets, to watch.

“Is this really proper?” Elindra sighed, deliberating for a good five minutes before finally sitting on the blanket between Effie and Lyssa. Annie, Peeta and Tadius were sharing another one. April, Fanny and Snowball seemed happy to entertain themselves so Effie made sure Aidan was alright in the baby sling around her shoulder and focused on the goals they were setting up on either side of the meadow.

Bryden’s team was composed of Haymitch – and Finn on his shoulders – Jo and Katniss. Timotheo’s was composed of Leo, Livy, Liam and Eileen. Which created a conundrum.

“It is not fair.” Bryden argued against his brother. “Finn cannot kick the ball.”

“Then pick someone else.” his brother granted.

Bryden immediately turned toward their blanket. “Aunt Effie?”

“No.” Haymitch cut in before she could politely decline, probably not confident that she _would_. “Aunt Effie’s still hurt. She can’t run.”

“Aunt Effie can answer for herself, _thank you very much_.” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Truly, Haymitch, how rude must you be?”

“Mother?” Bryden tried next.

“Oh, certainly _not_.” Lyssa refused. “Imagine _that_. No, darling, my apologies.”

The boy’s eyes settled on Elindra next but she huffed. “Do _not_ entertain the thought.”

“Too bad.” Effie heard Haymitch snort at Leo. “Would have been funny.”

Leo was too smart to answer that but the twitch of his mouth said it all.

She thought either Annie or Peeta were going to volunteer – without much pleasure but not to spoil the children’s joy – when her father cleared his throat.

“Well.” Tadius hesitated. “It had been a few decades but… Yes… I believe I would not mind giving it a try.”

Effie wasn’t sure who was the most shocked of her, Lyssa or Elindra.

“You will break something!” her mother immediately protested.

“I am not yet _ancient,_ dear.” Tadius retorted, hauling himself off the grass and joining the players.

“Oh, my goodness.” Elindra almost chocked. “What _has_ this District made of us? Oh, _my goodness_ … If _anyone_ saw… The _scandal_ it would cause…”

“He is playing with his grandchildren not murdering someone.” Effie tempered, amused despite it all.

“ _Still_.” her mother hissed.

Once the game started, it was hard to keep Snowball from running on the field after the ball. He was a third team all by himself, sometimes stealing the ball from under their feet and refusing to let go of it until someone actually managed to catch him. She rebuked him several times but they all actually seemed to like the game better that way so after a while she let it be.

Eventually, Aidan woke up and started fussing as was his habit – there wasn’t much sleep to have with him, he refused to sleep the night and he usually refused to sleep through his nap – so she stood up and walked around, rocking him and humming softly.

Peeta fell into step with her at some point.

“Did you not want to play?” she asked quietly after a couple of minutes of silent walking, her eyes often darting to the match. She wasn’t particularly interested but she felt compelled to check on Haymitch, worried the exercise would be too much for him. Sobriety was good for him but… she worried. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

And the view wasn’t unappealing. She loved it when he was all sweaty, sleeves rolled up, his damp shirt sticking to his skin, his hair all over the place…

“I wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Peeta shrugged. “Not with my leg.” In the distance, Katniss shrieked as she stumbled over Snowball and fell down. The dog barked, the girl glared as she got back to her feet and everyone laughed the accident off to start running after the ball – and the dog – again. Peeta’s smile was soft and he stopped walking to watch her so Effie followed suit. They were far enough from the others that nobody could hear them. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

She turned her head so fast something snapped in her neck. “Aren’t you already engaged?”

Although the engagement had been kind of forgotten in all the drama surrounding her pregnancy, she supposed and that made her feel a little guilty. The children had certainly never brought the subject up with her again.

“I guess it was more of a commitment proof.” he said with a small smile. “She… Well, when she came back from her road trip with Jo… I thought I had lost her, you know? I thought I never really had her in the first place, to be honest…” She remembered. Those weeks the children had spent broken up hadn’t been easy for _anyone_. Peeta went on, still smiling. “I was being an idiot. She wasn’t shy about telling me that straight.”

“I can imagine.” she chuckled.

“But I think she realized… We’ve been better at communicating since then.” he confessed. “She asked me to marry her because I told her I wasn’t sure she had ever _chosen_ me. She said I was an idiot and that if all I needed was proof of her choosing me then she would just marry me and that I could shut up about her not loving me enough because… She does.”

“Of course, she does.” Effie grinned. “It is a lovely story.”

“We agreed it would be a long engagement though.” Peeta pointed out. “And I think it’s not a bad idea to wait a little more but… She doesn’t have a ring and I kind of want to ask her because I have been planning it for a long time and she stole my thunder.”

“You have a plan.” she repeated with blatant excitement, the romantic in her swooning at the mere thought. “Tell me everything.”

He did. He told her about how he planned to steal the pearl he had given her during the Quell from her nightstand drawer and have it mounted on a ring. He told her how he was planning on lighting the bakery with candles and ask her _there_ because even if it had been destroyed and rebuilt it was where their story had first really started, with him tossing her a burned loaf of bread. He told her how he hoped she would like it even though she wasn’t the most romantic person.

The match was over by the time he was done and if people were puzzled by her hugging the boy half to death and her misty eyes, nobody commented. Except for Haymitch who naturally caught up with her as they all started the long trek back to the house. He had treaded Finn for April at some point and he looked exhausted. April had fallen asleep with her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

“You’re being all weepy today.” he frowned.

“My baby is turning one and my other babies are all grown up. I am allowed to be a little emotional.” she retorted, looking down at the sleeping infant in the sling. “You can never grow up, Aidan. I forbid it.”

“How improper!” Elindra exclaimed from a few feet behind them. “Look at you! You look… You look… You look like a _ruffian_!”

Effie glanced behind her, noticing her father _truly_ looked the part. His once upon a time pressed white shirt was sticking to his torso, the sleeves were rolled up, it was unbuttoned at the collar… She had _never_ seen his dyed blue hair so much in disarray… To be fair, she had never seen – nor had she ever _dreamt_ of _ever_ seeing – her father so disheveled and with such a neglectful appearance.

“Does it turn you on, dear?”

If Haymitch hadn’t caught her elbow, she would have tripped and crushed her baby to death. As it was, she couldn’t help but cough, eyes wide and ears ringing with the shock of what she had just heard. Given Lyssa’s wrinkled nose and the way she hid her face in Leo’s shoulder, she must have heard too.

Elindra huffed and puffed and huffed again but then she cleared her throat and _loudly_ made it known they would stop at the inn on their way back to the house so Tadius could get presentable again.

“I am going to be sick.” Effie informed Haymitch.

He made a face. “You and me _both_ , sweetheart.”

It was late by the time the party ended, nobody seemed in a hurry to leave, knowing that they would have to say goodbye the next day. Annie and Jo were staying a few days more but it never felt like enough.

Still, despite everything, Effie couldn’t help but feel some relief once the house was empty again and it was just Haymitch and their children.

The day’s excitement had gotten to April and she could barely keep her eyes open. She hugged her ragdoll tight all the while Effie put her pajamas on and didn’t even protest when she lifted her up to place her in her crib. She made sure the mobile worked, smiling when April tiredly reached for the dancing stars and unicorns, humming along the familiar melody to lull her to sleep.

She leaned in to brush her fingers in her daughter’s hair, unable to believe she had been holding her for the first time a year ago. She couldn’t remember what her life was like before her. She didn’t want to remember.

“Happy birthday, my little shrimp.” she whispered. “Mama loves you.”

“Mama…” April mumbled, her eyelids closing.

“Yes, Mama is here. Mama will _always_ be here.” she promised. “Mama loves you.”

“Mama uv…” The girl mimicked like she often did,  without real intent or knowledge. She was good at copying sounds. Effie wasn’t sure if it really counted as _talking_ but she usually was too proud to doubt it for long.

“Yes, Mama loves you.” she smiled. “Do you love Mama?”

“Uv Mama…” April babbled sleepily.

She sucked in a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip but it wasn’t enough to stop a couple of tears of joy from rolling down her cheeks. She _was_ perhaps a little too emotional that day.

“What about Papa?” Haymitch complained behind her but the huge smirk on his lips denied any annoyance. “Does the shrimp love her papa?” April was already asleep though. He faked a sigh. “Figures.” He leaned in next to Effie to gently stroke their daughter’s tummy. “Happy birthday, princess… You’re the best accident I ever had.”

“Haymitch!” she hissed. “You cannot tell _that_ to our child!”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” he shrugged, turning to face her and pursing his lips when he spotted her wet cheeks. He gently wiped them with his sleeve. “What’s with all those tears today?”

“I am just _so happy_ …” she whispered, leaning against him. “I did not know I could be so happy.”

“You’re gonna be less happy in a couple of hours when Aidan wakes up.” he teased, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “Bed?”

“Oh, yes…” she agreed with a long sigh. She was dead on her feet.

But being dead on her feet when you had two small children was a luxury you couldn’t afford, which was how they found themselves staring at each other blankly over a cup of coffee the next morning, April happily babbling in her high chair and Aidan being fed a bottle in the baby seat. From the noises outside, she thought the geese weren’t having a better morning than they did, chased around by Snowball as they were.

Meeting her family at the station was emotional. She hugged Lyssa and her father tight but it was her mother she had the most troubles letting go of.

“Now, now…” Elindra chided right in her ear because she was clinging to her just as hard. “This is _absolutely_ undignified. We are being _ridiculous_. We will see each other soon.”

“Thank you for everything.” she whispered.

“Nonsense.” her mother dismissed. “I will call when we arrive. _Do_ send pictures as soon as possible. They grow up so fast… I do not want to miss a thing.”

“You could always stay.” she suggested half-heartedly.

“Do not tempt an old woman.” Elindra snorted, forcing herself to let go first.

“You could never be _old_.” Haymitch mocked, squeezing Effie’s shoulder. She appreciated the comforting gesture but it didn’t stop the lump in her throat to grow so big she thought she would choke on it. He never let go of her, not even when he wrapped Elindra in a quick one-armed hug. “Don’t be a stranger. _Mother_.”

The Capitol woman rolled her eyes but a smile was tugging at her lips and she patted Haymitch’s back twice. “I do not need to ask you to take good care of my daughter and my grandchildren, I trust?”

“Got it covered.” he smirked, stepping back to wrap his arms around Effie. “Have a safe trip.”

It was difficult to watch Lyssa and Tadius pass April and then Aidan to Elindra. It was difficult to watch her say goodbye to her children. Aidan was too young to realize what was going on but April seemed to know and soon she was wailing, inconsolable long after the train was gone and Effie had cradled her close to her chest.

Even Haymitch seemed less happy than she would have thought to have seen them off.

She shed a few tears in the privacy of the kitchen, under the pretense of taking care of the numerous dishes from the previous day. When she walked back in the living-room after an hour or so, Haymitch was lounging on the couch with Aidan on his chest, lazily handing April cube after cube with his free hand. Their daughter was building a colorful tower that would soon collapse.

She placed two mugs of tea on the coffee table and sat next to his head. “Are you alright?”

He rolled his eyes but snorted, his hand gently rubbing up and down Aidan’s back.

“You, Trinkets… You grow on me.” he accused. “Seriously, sweetheart… How did I end up feeling _sad_ about _your mother_ leaving? Explain that one to me.”

She chuckled and started petting Snowball when he hopped on the couch and very much settled on her lap even though he was far too big and heavy to do that anymore.

“As Johanna told me more than once…” she hummed. “Love is weird.”

But it was also amazing, she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the beginning of the end. With this chapter starts the 10 chapters long epilogue. (yeah cause I can’t be short and I wanted closure on every loose thread so expect some time jumps next). 
> 
> We've come so far since the first chapter... I hope you enjoyed this one! Let me know your thoughts


	71. 18 Months & 6 Months

Haymitch looked up from his book and rolled his eyes when he realized Effie was still regularly peering through the window. She had positioned herself on the couch in such a way that she could keep an eye on the street.

He had preferred to stick to the armchair next to the bookshelves since her sewing stuff occupied half of the L-shaped couch and the dog was sprawled on the other side.

“You know we’re gonna hear everything about it first thing tomorrow, yeah?” he mocked.

It wouldn’t matter if they wanted to or not, he doubted Peeta would be able to hold his tongue. The proposal had been in the planning for _months_ at this point and the boy had been so impatient and excited about the prospect that it was probably unlikely Katniss hadn’t known what she was in for when they had left for their _date_.

Effie was almost more excited than Peeta was.

It was the romance, he figured, it drew her in like a moth to a flame. He wondered sometimes, if she would have liked him to do something like that when he had proposed: surprise her with a romantic gesture and a ring instead of just… _Asking_.

It wouldn’t have been _them_ though. And it had been special – to him, at least. The albums of memories she had reinvented for him… He reached to his right without conscious thought and brushed his fingers against the spines of the leather photo albums… They took a religious care of those albums, not just the ones she had made for him but those they had been keeping ever since then. One could argue – and the kids often did – that they were taking too many pictures, that they didn’t need to record their children’s _every_ day but there was something particular to _every days_ that everyone often took for granted. It wasn’t the smile his mother had sported on a special occasion that haunted him, it was her daily smile, the one she used to flash without reason.

“I am just checking they get home safe.” she argued.

That was the worst lie he had ever heard her utter and he shook his head at her, a smirk on his lips. “You’re just being _noisy_. You know they’re already engaged anyway, yeah? Won’t change a thing.”

She pursed her lips and tossed him an annoyed look before actually _huffing_ as if he was _badly_ missing the point. She went back to sewing whatever it was she was sewing, deliberately ignoring him, sometimes glancing up at the muted TV. If she thought he didn’t know her eyes checked the window every time they went up, she was mistaken but he let it slide.

Some noises came through the baby monitor with the blue ribbon – a system they had come up with months ago to make the distinction between Aidan’s and April’s even though April tended to just scream for either of them when she woke up now, rendering the monitor thing completely useless – and they both tensed. Aidan didn’t start crying but the noises seemed to indicate he was awake so Haymitch hauled himself off the armchair.

“I’ll check.” he offered.

She thanked him gratefully and went back to sewing whatever she was working on.

She had opened her dressmaking business again and it was really starting to take off. He had suggested, once again, that they should look into renting a space in town she could convert in a shop but she was adamant she wanted to do it by herself without his help or her father’s. It was working well enough for now. She had a few regular customers and curious people who came looking more to get a peek at the infamous Abernathy family than for her dresses but… All in all, it was taking off and she was happy to keep it small and manageable for now.

Besides, he thought as he climbed the stairs, she wasn’t ready to leave her babies for a long amount of time every day yet. Working at home meant that she could do something else than be their mother while very much _being_ their mother.

He stopped in April’s room first, adjusting the blankets on her small sleeping form and pushing the door almost all the way closed on his way out so Aidan wouldn’t wake his sister if he _did_ start crying. At one year and a half, April continued to prove herself a sweet-tempered child but being woken up in the middle of the night by her brother always made her grumpy and she was such a chatterbox – be it actual words or gibberish – that it took forever to get her back to sleep. She wanted story after story.

He was quiet when he walked inside the nursery and couldn’t help a smile at the familiar sight of his son. _His son. His daughter_. Those words had never stopped thrilling him to the bones.

The baby was on his back, a fist being waved around in what appeared to be a troubled dream if the small noises he sometimes let out were to be trusted.

“Hey, jellyfish…” Haymitch whispered, gently rubbing his tummy. “It’s okay. Papa’s here now. You’re safe.”

He picked up the discarded pacifier and brushed it against the baby’s lips. Aidan immediately sucked on it in his sleep but ended up spitting it out after a couple of seconds, his eyelids lifting up on tired grey eyes. The baby let out a small whine, he looked a little flushed in the soft glow of the fish-shaped night-light.

“What’s up with you, Aidan?” he frowned, picking the baby up and gently rocking him. 

He felt his forehead for a fever, always wary of a cold. Aidan tended to catch everything. Stomach bugs, colds… He was more fragile than April had ever been and, as a result, both he and Effie tended to fret every time he expressed signs of distress.

He was smaller than his sister had been at that age, too. He ate well and grew up within the norms but he had never reached that cute chubby stage April had.

The baby wasn’t too warm, certainly not enough to make him fear anything serious.

He kept putting his hands in his mouth and drooling all over them though, which made Haymitch wince. “Ah…” He gently felt around the baby’s gums, eventually finding the small bump he was looking for. “Putting a big boy’s teeth, are you? That must hurt…”

He pressed a small kiss on his son’s forehead, made sure to grab the stuffed giraffe his son favored from the crib, and slowly made his way downstairs. Effie pushed her sewing aside as soon as he came back in the living-room with his precious cargo.

“Did you wake up, my jellyfish?” she cooed at the baby who was now a little more awake.

Snowball lifted his head and dropped it back down once satisfied there was no emergency. If it had been April, chances were he would already have tried to cuddle with her but as much as the dog loved Aidan – and he did, there was no denying that – he and the boy had never bonded like he had with the girl. Snowball was April’s dog – more than theirs sometimes – there was no kidding around with that. Haymitch sometimes wondered how that would turn out when they would be older and had already more or less resigned himself to the fact they would need to get another pet at some point to make it fair.

“I think he’s teething.” he told her, carefully handing her their son. “We still have the plastic rings in the freezer?”

She hummed thoughtfully for a second. “I believe so. I cannot remember taking them out.” Aidan was now very intent on sharing his discomfort with her through noises impossible to understand and a lot of sharp small cries of protest.  “Oh, I know… It _cannot_ be comfortable, my door darling…” she crooned. “But look at that… Your first tooth! Isn’t it _exciting_? You will be eating solid food soon! Think about _all_ you will get to taste… Oh, you are growing up too fast. _Far_ too fast. What did I say about that? I _distinctively_ remember forbidding you from growing up.”

He vaguely listened to her chatter while he rummaged around the freezer and eventually located the plastic toy at the very back, trapped in ice. It took some work to free it and then to clean it up and make sure it wasn’t _too_ cold.

When he came back in the living-room, he pushed the dog until Snowball tossed him a hurt look and jumped on Effie’s other side – she _barely_ had time to put her sewing kit and the heap of fabric out of the way – where there was less space and where he was forced to curl up. His head ended up wedged between her stomach and the baby to Aidan’s instantaneous delight. He dropped the stuffed toy to grab the dog’s ear. He had an obsession for Snowball’s ears. As usual, the dog was a trooper about it and just let out a long suffering sigh before closing his eyes and going back to sleep as if nothing had happened.

“Drama queen.” Haymitch muttered under his breath, dropping down on the cushion the Samoyed had just vacated. “Here, Jellyfish.”

Apparently, Aidan was divided on the cold toy question. Clearly he didn’t mind sucking on it but holding it was out of the question. Too cold. He lost interest fast, wriggling in discomfort but refusing to take the ring again.

Of course.

“We should make an appointment with Doctor Larcher in the morning.” Effie suggested.

“So he can tell us what we already know?” he snorted. “Feel his gum. That’s a tooth.”

“So he can confirm everything is well.” she retorted, her lips pursed in irritation. “Are you set on annoying me tonight?”

“You mean opposed to every other night?” he smirked, leaning in to nip at the side of her neck.

She shrugged him off but giggled, tossing a look that was less severe and more amused.

“Your papa is being _silly_.” she told Aidan whose face was scrunched in displeasure. “He is pretending to eat Mama.”

“That’s an idea.” he mumbled, going back to playfully attack her neck. A kiss this time. 

“Haymitch!” she hissed. “Not in front of the baby.” April always laughed when Haymitch kissed or fooled around with Effie in front of her but Aidan tended to get jealous of her attention really fast and right now he was fussing. “I _know_ , darling… It must hurt really bad…”

“Wasn’t suggesting doing it _in front_ of the baby.” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her a little against him so she could rest her weight against his chest. Disturbed once more by the shift, Snowball jumped off the couch with a betrayed look, padded to his bed near the fireplace and settled on top of his impressive collection of stuffed toys – stolen and otherwise. Haymitch refused to feel guilty, certain it wouldn’t be long before the dog came cuddling back. “We’re in for a few sleepless nights.” he commented with a sigh.

“Probably, yes…” she replied. “Do you remember when April started teething?”

“I remember you were pregnant and I had to do most of the work ‘cause _someone_ was making Mama feel sick and dizzy all the time.” he snorted, poking the baby’s tummy.

Aidan grabbed his hand and started playing with his fingers.

“You should try to sleep, baby boy…” Effie suggested, gently bumping the giraffe’s snout against his cheek. “ _Hush, little baby don’t you cry…”_

That lullaby had started affecting him too at some point and he felt himself drift off. Aidan somehow ended up curled up against his chest with his stuffed giraffe. He was vaguely aware Effie escaped the group cuddle at some point, probably to get back to her work, but it wasn’t until an hour had passed that he startled awake and immediately groaned when he felt the crick in his neck.

Aidan was gone – back to his crib, he supposed – but he now had a Samoyed blanket draped over his lap. The TV was off, the fire had been stroked and Effie… He wasn’t sure where she was. Her sewing kit was gone but he was pretty sure that if she had gone to bed, she would have dragged him up with her.

He extricated himself from under the dog – who was clearly not entirely happy with him tonight – and went looking, following the quiet noises to the kitchen.

“You’re okay?” he mumbled, a little sleepy because it was close to midnight and that wasn’t an hour to scrub the kitchen’s counters.

Bouts of cleaning in the middle of the night usually meant an anxiety attack and it had been at least two months since the last one. The weeks after her release from the clinic had been a little difficult on that front. Nightmares had come back, Aidan hadn’t gone two hours without wailing which had, in turn, woken up April… It hadn’t been easy. But they had soldiered through.

She was better now. She was even managing to handle stuff that used to trigger her without having a flashback or a panic attack. Sometimes, he hoped they had finally passed the hard part.

“Yes.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “Sorry, I could not stop thinking about the state the freezer might be in so I put some order and then there was ice all over the counters…” She dismissed his frown with a wave of her hand. “Honestly, I _am_ fine. I just wanted to clear some space in case we needed to store more of those toys. April used to go through them at an alarming rate.”

“He doesn’t seem to like them.” he pointed out, leaning against the table.

“I would rather be safe than sorry.” she shrugged, tossing the sponge in the sink and turning around to lean against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck so he wrapped his around her waist. “Now I seem to remember you were… _hungry_ earlier?”

“Yeah?” he smirked, lifting his eyebrows, faking confusion. “Can’t remember…”

She chuckled and brushed her lips against his, teasing him until he could do nothing but kiss back. The kisses became insistent but they weren’t particularly hurried. Finding alone time for the two of them with two small children was a little complicated but they made sure to manage and while they were still hungry for each other, it was not the deep starvation he had felt during the months of her second pregnancy when he hadn’t been allowed to touch her. It had been a relief when Larcher had finally said it was alright for her to go back to normal on that front, a few weeks after Aidan’s birth, but her body had troubled her long after that because of the partial-hysterectomy. It had been a little difficult for a while to find a new balance.

He turned them around so she had her back to the table and lifted her up by the waist so she was sitting, which made her laugh. Her fingers tangled in his hair when he let his mouth wander down her jaw to her neck, his hand doing a quick job of unbuttoning her dress… He _barely_ had sneaked a hand under her clothes when the cry came from upstairs.

“ _Mama_!” April called.

He groaned and pressed his forehead against her collarbone. “Do you remember how it was before we had children?”

“Do you mean peaceful?” she teased, knowing he didn’t mean one word of it.

“Yeah.” he sighed. “ _That_.”

“ _Mama!”_ April insisted.

“We’re coming, shrimp!” he shouted back.

“Hush, you will wake Aidan.” she chided him, pushing him away so she could hop down and rush to their daughter’s rescue.

“’Cause you think _she_ won’t?” he snorted.

“Check on him, please.” she requested. “I will take care of April.”

He checked in the nursery but Aidan was fast asleep, his arm wrapped around the stuffed giraffe’s neck. From experience, he knew it would take Effie some time to get April back to sleep so he went ahead and got ready for bed, taking advantage of the respite to grab a shower.

And he smirked when the door opened ten minutes later and Effie sneaked inside, plastering herself to his back.

“That was quick.” he commented.

“Her ragdoll had fallen off the crib.” she explained. “She just wanted it back. Snowball showed up and she petted him until she fell back asleep. She is so cute, it is not even fair.”

“She _is_. That innocent pout she has?” he chuckled.

“The one that makes you do everything she wants without question?” she mocked. “It is lucky for us she is not too much of a troublemaker.”

“Give her time.” He shook his head, turning around to pin her against the glass wall, his mouth on her neck once more. “Maybe it was peaceful before… But it was also _boring_. Yeah?”

Because now… Of course, some people could argue – and Johanna often did – that their lives revolved around their children, that they planned their days around them, that they got too excited over the smallest progress on their part, that they were those parents who couldn’t stop talking about their babies and show everyone pictures even to those who weren’t interested… But Haymitch was never bored and never tempted to go have a drink.

There were bad days. Of course, there were. There were days when the memories were harder to ignore, when he had nightmares and when this new life they created seemed like an impossible dream faced with the grimness of his past…

But even on those days, he only had to take one look at his children to know he wouldn’t ever touch a drop again. Because they were worth everything, they _deserved_ everything and he wouldn’t fuck it up even more than he was already bound to do it. He wanted to do his best, to give them his best and if that made him that annoying dad who gloated to everyone about how smart his daughter was or how cute his baby boy looked… So be it.

“This part of my life…” she hums. “I think it is my favorite. I was very foolish when I was young. I thought nothing good could ever happen past thirty.”

“Same.” he scoffed. “Stupid us.”

“Stupid us.” she repeat with a grin. “Now… Are you _ever_ going to take advantage of me before one of our babies wakes up again?”

He was happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small time jump! Our little family is doing well wouldn't you say? Let me know your thoughts!


	72. 22 Months & 10 Months

“Blue, really, do you think?” Effie hummed, accepting the color pencil April handed her. Half of the kitchen table was occupied by pencils, felt-tip pens and stacks of white papers. The almost two year-old loved to draw picture after picture and the fridge was covered with what could only be described as abstract art. Effie had been distractedly sketching an evening gown that would never see the light of day because nobody in Twelve would order one. Apparently, it was to be a blue gown.

“When isn’t it blue?” Haymitch snorted from the stove where he was stirring the tomato sauce for the pasta that were boiling in another pot for lunch. He had a point. April loved blue. Every declination of it.

“Bue best.” April beamed, slamming her own blue pencil on the drawing she was working on – a blue tangle of lines.

“ _Is the_ best, darling.” Effie corrected.

Their daughter looked up at her with a focused expression on her young face and then looked back down at her drawing. And yet, Effie knew that the next time she used that phrasing, more likely than not there would at least be a verb in there. Her speech abilities _were_ advanced for her age, Larcher had confirmed it.

And it made Effie and Haymitch so proud they could burst.

They had very gifted children.

And Aidan demonstrated that by using the cupboard’s handle to stand up from where he had been sitting in the corner of the kitchen, trying to interest Snowball into playing with him. The dog hadn’t really been in the mood but had indulged the boy in a game of tug with his purple monkey.

Aidan was unsteady on his legs still but he could take a few steps alone before crashing down.

Effie dropped the pencil and opened her arms, grinning wide when her son’s lips stretched into a bright smile and he stumbled toward her. It was a short distance and he collapsed into her arms with a delighted laugh.

“Well done!” she praised, peppering his face with kisses.

“Apil too!” April exclaimed, bolting from her chair to run around the table, stretching her arms above her head. Effie hauled her on her other knee with the ease of practice and started kissing and tickling her too. Soon, she had two children in hysterics on her lap and Snowball was barking, jumping around her chair, clearly more interested in that sort of games. After a couple of minutes, April twisted around and outstretched a hand toward Haymitch. “Dada!” she half-screeched, half-giggled. “Dada, hep!”

“Oh, Dada must help, yeah?” Haymitch chuckled, lowering the flames under the pot so it wouldn’t burn before making a show of slowly stalking toward them. “But does Dada have to help the shrimp and the jellyfish or Mama?”

“Mama!” Effie requested, playfully pretending to bite Aidan’s ear. “I think we should have _them_ for lunch, Haymitch. They look _tasty_.”

April screamed in fake terror. “Hep Apil! Hep Apil!”

“I don’t know, little princess…” Haymitch wriggled his eyebrows. “The two of you _do_ look tasty!” He pounced, then, pretending to eat the children while kissing them and tickling them at the same time. Effie made sure to keep a strong hold on them so there would be no accident but they were wriggling like worms on a hook.

Aidan was laughing hard, not quite following the game but happy to play nonetheless.

“Balls!” the girl called, out of breath from too much laughter.

Snowball immediately barked in answer and lifted on his hinder legs, propping his front paws on Haymitch’s side. He didn’t growl or even made any sign that he was about to attack but his desire was clear: he wanted Haymitch to step away from April.

“I’m just playing, you silly dog.” he mocked. He shrugged the Samoyed off but took the time to scratch him behind the ears. “I think Mama’s more tasty anyway… What do you say, kids? Should we eat Mama?”

“Yes!” April shouted and, helped in no little way by Haymitch, started taking her revenge by tickling Effie’s side and her neck.

She wasn’t particularly ticklish but she couldn’t help but laugh, straining her neck to escape the little hands and Haymitch stronger ones. Aidan was the only one who didn’t turn against her and tried to help her attack his sister instead.

It was in that joyful chaos that the phone started ringing.

“Enough…” Effie begged. “I surrender.”

“We win!” Haymitch triumphed, grabbing April by the waist and lifting her high over his head to the girl’s obvious delight.

Effie shook her head but she knew it was only a way to take the girl off her hands without making it too obvious that Aidan was still on her lap – the two were thick as thieves but there were _some_ jealousy problems between the two of them sometimes – so she bit back her instinct to remind him to be careful.

He was _always_ careful with their children anyway.

He propped April up on his hip when they reached the phone and picked it up, his grey eyes still alive with mirth and the simple happiness that always shone in them when he spent time with their babies. Effie could only relate. Lately, she had felt completely happy too.

“Hello?” he said in the phone in that tone that meant he expected to talk to her mother – because Elindra was the house’s main caller.

She arranged Aidan on her lap and let him grab one of the pencil, quickly switching a few blank papers for her half done gown design and making sure he didn’t draw on the table. She had spent _hours_ trying to get the felt-tip pens squiggles from the glass coffee table the other day and she wasn’t too keen on a repeat. If April’s art could only be described as _abstract_ , Aidan’s was barely more than random lines crisscrossing, he lacked the dexterity to do much else.

“Plutarch.” Haymitch made a face in Effie’s direction and she pouted, silently telling him to _be_ _nice_. It wasn’t that she was particularly well disposed toward the former Gamemaker because he tended to be very liberal about what he let the press print about them but he had his uses and he never begrudged them a favor if he could grant it.  Haymitch rolled his eyes but shrugged, jostling April and making her giggle as if it was still part of the game. “No, it’s not that I’m not glad to hear you, it’s just that when you call, it usually means I’m not gonna like tomorrow’s headlines.”

It had been months since the last mention of Twelve’s celebrities in the newspapers, since the children’s engagement had become official. The star-crossed lovers being _finally_ about to properly tie the knot had been on the front of every magazine for weeks – and had puzzled some people since they had been pretending to be married during the war. _They_ hadn’t made the headlines for a while but every time paparazzi managed to sneak a picture of them with their children, Haymitch raged against Plutarch’s hypocrisy.

Truth be told, the Capitol’s hands seemed only tied when it suited him.

She couldn’t begin to guess what they had done now that warranted a phone call from the Secretary of Communications. She wasn’t pregnant, she hadn’t killed anyone, they weren’t having a secret wedding and she hadn’t had a public panic attack. She hadn’t had a panic attack in _months_ actually. Life was _good_ and peaceful, which meant that they were boring to the press, which suited her perfectly.

Unless it was about Lyssa’s engagement but she didn’t see why Plutarch would call to warn them. Lyssa was famous in her own right, just like her mother was. She was sure her name would be mentioned once her sister released the announcement but it should be all about Lyssandra not…

“What about it?” Haymitch frowned and then scoffed. “No, I don’t plan on coming. I haven’t come the last four years why would I…”

“Where does he want you to go?” Effie asked, wrapping her arms more tightly around her son. She didn’t like the thought of him going anywhere.

“The fifth anniversary of the surrender.” he explained for her. “Apparently, it’s gonna be huge this year.”

“It would be.” she hummed. “Five years is a milestone.”

Not to mention, elections would take place not long after that for the second time since the war and, from what she had seen on news channel, it wouldn’t be as much of an easy win as Paylor probably wished for.

“What?” Haymitch asked, clearly distracted by Plutarch. Then his face really turned sour. “Oh, yeah, we have _that_ …” He glanced at Effie. “He’s asking if we can put him on video and speaker. You mind?”

She glanced around the kitchen, took in the mess that never used to be there before – a lived-in mess of toys, bottles, children winter boots and woolen mittens – a mess she was usually ashamed to show anyone who wasn’t their family or Eileen Clarke’s but just like she had resigned herself to bring her customers in the slightly untidy house, she granted permission with a wave of her hand.

The new phone had been a gift from her parents, the latest Capitol technology and Haymitch’s newfound most hatred object. It could work as a phone usually did but it also had a square screen and a camera that allowed to see and be seen if that was one’s wish. He had only relented faced with her parents’ fears that the children would forget what they looked like and that they wouldn’t otherwise be allowed to see them grow up. It had been pure emotional manipulation on her mother’s part but, for some mysterious reason that she attributed to something that had happened during her second pregnancy while she was trapped in the clinic, Haymitch was now firmly considering Elindra like a part of their family and let himself be manipulated more easily than before.

Haymitch tinkered with the settings, always a bit hesitant when it came to handling the new phone, and suddenly Plutarch Heavensbee’s face appeared on the screen. He looked older, Effie immediately noticed, and if she wasn’t mistaken he had had some Botox shots done. He was sitting in what she assumed to be his office given the bay windows she could glimpse behind him. There were skyscrapers in the distance but she couldn’t identify them.

April, who was used to seeing her grandparents or her aunt and nobody else on that screen, immediately hid her face in the crook of Haymitch’s neck.

_“Oh, hello there, little lady!”_ Plutarch beamed with a genuine smile. _“Why, you look just like your mother…”_

April took another peek at the former Head Gamemaker and then pressed her face against Haymitch’s woolen sweater again. “Who he, Dada?”

“A friend.” Haymitch answered even though the word clearly cost him.

“Good morning, Plutarch.” Effie greeted politely, standing up so she could be in the camera’s line of sight. She kept Aidan in her arms but the boy wanted to wriggle free and, eventually, she placed him down, letting him crawl back to the dog. Snowball bumped his head against the boy’s and then crouched low, wriggling this way and that, leading Aidan on a merry crawl chase all around the kitchen. Effie smiled but returned her attention to the phone. “I trust you and Fulvia are well?”

_“In perfect health.”_ Plutarch assured. “ _And yourself?”_

“We are all doing very well, thank you.” she answered.

Haymitch rolled his eyes.

“So _polite_.” he muttered as if it was a bad thing. He crouched and put April back on her feet, gently detaching her arms from his neck. “Why don’t you go play with your brother and Balls, sweetheart?”

“Don’t encourage that nickname.” Effie pleaded because her daughter shouting for _balls_ in the street had drawn more than one stare.

_“Your children are positively_ cute _.”_ Plutarch declared.

He sounded sincere and Effie was never one to pass on an opportunity to accept compliments about them so she grinned. “They are.”

“So? What were you saying about the victory anniversary?” Haymitch said, once he had convinced April to go play with Aidan and the dog.

He kept an eye on the three of them but he also moved back to the stove to turn it even lower so the sauce wouldn’t burn. Katniss was supposed to come over for lunch, she thought, and Peeta too if he could get away from the bakery and, between the lot of them, they went through more food than they used to. There needed to be something on the table in twenty minutes and preferably nothing charred.

Plutarch sighed and played with something on the top of his desk just out of the camera’s range, maybe a pen or a paperknife. “ _I was saying it would be opportune for you and the children to attend. And, before you ask, Johanna, Annie, Beetee and Enobaria will be my next calls although if Enobaria declines to attend I won’t be too sorry. Her position in the war was ambiguous. The rest of the Star Squad all confirmed they are coming._ ”

Haymitch let out a snort. “Want to reunite the whole gang?”

“ _It is an election year, Haymitch_.” the Head Gamemaker sighed. _“And President Paylor herself asked me to call you in hopes… You_ still _support her, do you not?”_

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a long glance. She wasn’t interested in politics, she never really had been, but that was a topic Haymitch could be _very_ passionate about – and on the subject of which he had shared numerous debates and fights with Peeta, her father and sometimes Lyssa’s boyfriend – she knew he disagreed with some of Paylor’s policies, the ones he attributed to a need to accumulate political capital rather than doing the right thing.

There were a lot of debates about what Paylor had managed to accomplish in the last five years lately. Mostly, it seemed to be positive but there were still sore points, like the welfare system. Amongst other things, the fact that wealthy people had access to medical technology an average insurance couldn’t hope to cover divided the country. Her main opponent, if she wasn’t mistaken, was campaigning for a more equal repartition of resources – which in her opinion didn’t seem fairer at all given that it would be brought through taxes.

“Yeah.” he said after a few seconds, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I still do. But I don’t see how…”

“ _If you follow the news, you know her main challenger is a man from Thirteen.”_ Plutarch cut him off.

“I’ve seen a few of his speeches and I’ve read about his program. Not anywhere as bad as Coin.” Haymitch dismissed. “A bit more conservative than Paylor but he didn’t trigger any alarm.”

_“That is not the point.”_ the Capitol countered.

Effie started losing interest in the conversation. She knew it could go on and on forever when those two started talking politics so she gathered the papers and the pencils and cleared the table so she could get it ready for lunch.

“Seems the point to me.” Haymitch shrugged. “If he’s not a tyrant…”

_“Do you want to see Patina reelected or not?”_ Plutarch argued. _“According to the polls we have running… The Capitol, One and Two are going to be decisive.”_

“Don’t see how us coming to the anniversary’s gonna help.” he grumbled and lifted his hand before the Capitol could object. “Yeah, I know. _Optics_. It’s good for her to be seen with victors and famous rebels, never mind the Mockingjay. You’re gonna lose Thirteen though.”

_“Thirteen is already lost to Danos.”_ Plutarch shook his head. “ _So is Eight, Four and Ten. We’re hoping having Annie over will help with Four but… Truly, the swing Districts will be One, Two and the Capitol.”_ Hence the invitation extended to Enobaria, Effie figured, placing plates on the table. _“Haymitch, if we are going to win this, we need a show of unity. We need you at the anniversary events. There will be a commemoration ceremony… We’re having a monument in Capitol Park with the names of fallen soldiers… There will be interviews too but we can limit Katniss’ and Peeta’s participation to that, I promise.”_

“You get I have a two year-old and a ten months baby, yeah?” he scoffed.

Plutarch lifted his hands as if it was no problem at all. _“Everything will be taken care of. We can arrange for babysitters and nannies for your children and Finn Odair. Lodgings will naturally be provided too. I was thinking perhaps your old quarters at the Training Center…”_

“No.” The word passed Effie’s lips without her consent and she paused, her fist bundled around a handful of forks. The two men had stopped talking and she was aware of their dual gazes on her but she simply cleared her throat and resumed dressing the table. “If we _are_ doing this, we are _not_ staying in the penthouse. Do I need to remind you what was going on _underneath_ the Games Compound? I do not understand why you haven’t tear that building apart yet.”

She wasn’t entirely surprised by the venom in her own voice but she slowly breathed out, forcing her erratic heartbeat to something calmer. Her eyes fell on the children playing a game of roll the-more-than-wiling dog on the floor and she relaxed.

_It was long ago_ , she reminded herself, _it is over now. Over._

Haymitch’s gaze lingered on her long after Plutarch had awkwardly coughed.

“ _Of course_.” the Head Gamemaker said. “ _My apologies. It was insensitive_.”

“Yes.” she said simply, fetching glasses from the cupboard. “It was.”

She glanced through the window over the sink, checking the grey sky, wary of more snow coming down. February had been plagued by short snowing sessions that left the ground muddy with patches of ice. Winter didn’t seem in any hurry to die.

“Say, I’m willing to come…” Haymitch let his sentence trail off, probably waiting for her to interrupt.

She didn’t. She understood that he had been more or less cast aside at the end of Katniss’ trial, when he had volunteered to be her guardian, but that, initially, he would have liked to have been _involved_. He had fought for that new government and he had his own set of ideas. If things had been different… She wouldn’t object to him getting involved _now_ if that was what he wanted to do. He liked Patina Paylor and if he wanted to support her more actively…

_“It would be a huge help.”_ Plutarch breathed out.

“What about my wife?” he challenged, making Effie frown at him. “Cause I know you and your politician tricks. She ain’t exactly a point that’s likely to make people scream _unity_. If you make us come all the way over to the city only to ask her to keep a low profile…”

_“Effie is more than welcome to appear with you.”_ the Secretary of Communication eagerly assured. _“In fact…”_ The Capitol winced and then cleared his throat, his attention turning to Effie. _“My dear, I am afraid I have news that may upset you as well as an offer… The decision is entirely up to you, understand, we will_ not _force your hand. Despite what her advisors would have us do, President Paylor and I stood very firmly on that, the decision is yours alone but I must stress it_ would _be a tremendous help if you…”_

“What are you talking about?” Haymitch barked, far too aggressively.

“Dada?” April asked, a touch of uncertain fear in her tone.

Haymitch hardly ever raised his voice in the children’s vicinity. They weren’t used to it.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart.” Effie promised with a loving smile she had to force a little. “Do not worry. I think Snowball would like to play some more, don’t you?” April’s attention wasn’t so easily averted but instead of running to one of them, she wrapped her arms around her brother’s shoulders and hugged him like she did with her stuffed toys. Her eyes remained on Effie until Snowball distracted her with a lick on her face. When Effie was sure her daughter wasn’t listening anymore, she stepped closer to Haymitch and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am fine.”

_“_ Until he upsets you.” he mumbled, too low for Plutarch to hear. “This is gonna be _bullshit_ , I can _smell_ it.”

She squeezed his shoulder and turned to the screen. “What is it you would have me do?”

The former Gamemaker lowered his eyes and played with whatever it was, betraying how nervous he was. Whatever they wanted to ask her, he knew Haymitch wasn’t going to like it. _“You heard of the AFCR, I presume? The Association For Capitol Recognition?”_

There was a lump in her throat and she leaned against Haymitch’s side a little but jutted her chin in the air. “I will _not_ dispute their claim that some Capitol people were victims in this war, Plutarch. I will not _lie_ to cover how out of hands the Purge became and I will _not_ say no Capitol were tortured by Snow’s government despite what Thirteen would have us believe.”

Haymitch’s arm sneaked around her waist and held her firmly to him.

_“We are not asking you to, Effie, you misunderstand.”_ Plutarch denied. _“At the commemoration, President Paylor is going to give credit to Calmus Caldwell’s claims and publicly acknowledge that Capitol citizens_ were _detained, tortured and killed during the war and that, of those who survived that treatment, some of them were afterwards killed in the Purge. She will acknowledge that the Purge was little more than a revenge bloodbath, that there was no more justice in shooting the defenseless eighty year-old escorts and Gamemakers than there had been in sending children to arenas. She will also acknowledge that while some met their fair end during the trials, some had been forced into the Games business the same way victors were. She will, in short, acknowledge that there were zones of grey in this war and it is going to cause no small amount of uproar, I believe.”_

Both she and Haymitch remained speechless for a while because this was _huge_.

And then Haymitch let out a bitter snort. “The Capitol, One and Two… That’s who you need so that’s how you get them.”

Because One and Two were the most Capitol friendly Districts.

_Politics_.

Suddenly, the idea of leaving Twelve, her _house_ , behind to go back to the city and its smoke screens and mirrors left her nauseous. Ever since the conversation had begun, she had thought she might be able to do it now, that it would be a good opportunity to grant her mother’s request for a visit because Tadius and Elindra kept making the trip and it wasn’t quite fair… A part of her was _curious_ because according to her sister the Capitol looked like a completely different city… But now that she was reminded of how _fake_ everything always was there…

She wasn’t sure she wanted to bring her children there, not even for a few days.

_“Always the cynic, Haymitch.”_ Plutarch rebuked _. “Paylor is doing this because it is the right thing to do and it might be her last opportunity. If Danos is elected, there will be a power shift toward Thirteen and good luck to the Capitol then.”_

“And I’m supposed to care because…” Haymitch scowled.

“Because _I_ do.” Effie finished before Plutarch could. She rubbed her forehead. She truly hadn’t missed that sort of games. “It was not that upsetting a news. What was it you wanted me to do, then?”

“ _Ah…”_ Plutarch winced. _“I am afraid I haven’t got to the upsetting news yet. Again, I want you to know you do_ not _have to do anything you do not want to do. If you decide to stay in the Victors Village where you are safe from the media circus… I would not hold it against you and I will shield you as much as I can, I promise.”_

“What the _fuck_ are you going to do?” Haymitch hissed, tightening his hold on her waist.

She whacked his arm. “The children.”

Haymitch’s grey eyes darted to their children but soon came back to Plutarch. “Spit it out.”

_“It is not me, personally.”_ the Head Gamemaker shook his head. “ _I was actually against it. Paylor always advocated an open book presidency, in the interest of transparency. In the wake of that announcement… The war archives will be made public so that the families of people who were executed after the war but who had actually been tortured by the Capitol can find their peace and know the truth. The list of captives, the list of…”_

_“_ No.” Effie cut him off, trying to take a step back but only bumping into the kitchen counter. The walls were closing in on her and her ears were ringing. It had been so long since the last time it had gotten that bad that…

Haymitch turned her around and brushed her hair back, framing her face in his hands. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

She focused on him and blinked fast, working to keep her breathing steady. Once he was sure she wasn’t going to have a panic attack, he looked past her shoulder to the screen. “You _can’t_ do this. You release her name, they’re gonna pounce on her. You know what it’s gonna be like! We have _kids_ _for fuck’s sake_!” He shouted the last part and Aidan started crying, scared by the raised voice. April’s lips were wobbling too. “ _Shit_.” he spat and let go of Effie to march to their children. He lifted both of them easily, one in each arm, and pressed a quick kiss on their daughter’s head before nuzzling Aidan’s blond hair. “I’m sorry. Papa’s _sorry_. It’s alright. Everything’s alright…”

“If my name comes out…” Effie whispered and then she repeated it louder so Plutarch could hear her over the boy’s crying. “If my name comes out…”

_“Please, believe me, I am_ deeply _sorry.”_ Plutarch insisted. _“I suggested redacting some of the names from the list for privacy reasons. You are not the only one on that list I would rather protect from that kind of attention… My request was denied. Apparently, transparency cannot be redacted.”_

Plutarch snorted that last part with bitterness and some weariness.

Haymitch was staring at her, their children close to his chest. “We’re not going. We’re staying here. We’ll… We’re gonna stock up on food and we’ll wait for the storm to pass, yeah? Elections are in less than two months… It’s gonna blow over fast.”

But it _wouldn’t_.

And hiding wasn’t a solution.

Perhaps it would save them from the press for a little while but when they eventually ventured out of the Village…

_Everyone would know_.  

They would look at her and they would know. Everything she had been through, they would know.

Perhaps the government would only release the names but how long before the details were leaked? Every humiliating word, every insult, every time they had spat on her or peed on her just for the fun of it… Everything that had been perhaps worse than the physical pain of being torn apart.

They would know.

Everyone would know.

She was going to have to walk to the grocery store, look at the nice man who owned it and see the pity in his gaze. Every man and woman whose eyes she would happen to meet in the streets, she would see the knowledge in their eyes. And she would never be able to forget. Because it would be forever there, on their faces.

And it wouldn’t be just _pity_.

It would be _hatred_. The satisfaction that she had gotten what she deserved.

“What do you advise?” she asked Plutarch, resolutely ignoring Haymitch. Because Haymitch would want to protect her to the last and she wasn’t sure there was any way of protecting her that didn’t involve facing the reality of the situation.

_Her dirty secret_.

She had always known it would come back to haunt her, _always_.

_“I advise accepting our offer. Take a hold on the story before it takes a hold on you.”_ the Head Gamemaker said gently.

“You need someone famous to confirm the AFCR’s claims.” she deduced. “You need someone with firsthand knowledge, so to speak.”

_“If you are agreeable, we would have you make a speech before Paylor’s acknowledgement.”_ Plutarch confirmed. _“You could… Honestly, I think it would be the time to properly clear your name, to explain why you were pardoned. Whatever crime people felt you committed, you paid for it down in those cells, Effie, I firmly believe that it would turn Panem’s opinion about you.”_

“I do not care much for Panem’s opinion.” she snorted with some bitterness.

It hadn’t always been like that but now… Now the only opinions that mattered…

She looked at Haymitch who was simply standing there, the now calmer children still in his arms. Her family.

She wanted to be strong for them. She didn’t want to be the escort who escaped execution because she was Haymitch Abernathy’s lover. She wasn’t sure being the escort who escaped execution because she had been tortured to a breath of her sanity was better but… At least it was the truth and she found she was ready to acknowledge it.

She had been hiding what had happened to her for _so long_ …

It was a weight around her neck, the dirty secret that made her feel filthy and weak…

“What do you think?” she asked Haymitch.

He studied her for a long time before shrugging. “I think I took the decision for you once and I don’t want to do it again. You want to do it, I’m gonna be right beside you. You don’t want to, I’m gonna make sure they don’t come near our family. Your choice, Princess. I’m with you no matter what.”

She held his gaze, swallowing hard around the heart that seemed to be beating in her throat. “I think I _need_ to.”

_“We can have someone write something for you…”_ Plutarch suggested.

“No.” she denied. “If I do it… It will be my story, my words.” She licked her lips and twisted her shaking hands this way and that. “They will want interviews. After…”

_“You_ won’t _have to do anything you do not want to.”_ the Capitol promised. _“I will make sure they leave you alone. I can only do so much, please understand. I know you sometimes think I control every newspaper in Panem but it is a free country now, I cannot very well advocate for democracy and then tell them what to print but… I will do my best. And we can have you shipped back on a hovercraft at a moment notice if you feel the need to go home.”_

“Alright.” she whispered, aware that Haymitch was coming closer. She melted against his side, pressing her face against their daughter’s back. The children looked puzzled, clearly picking up on the tension. It wasn’t long before Snowball came to lean against her leg, offering silent support. Surrounded by her family, she felt brave, braver than she had felt in a long time. “I will do it.”

Plutarch nodded once and then turned to Haymitch. “ _I assume that means you will make an appearance at the anniversary, then?”_

“The two of us for sure.” he grumbled. “I ain’t speaking for the kids. And April and Aidan stay out of the spotlight, yeah? Tell your minions… Tell them I’ll record an exclusive interview if everyone agrees to leave my babies alone. No stolen pictures, no harassing them, no following them around in the city.”

It was a major concession but that was the game. You didn’t get anything if you were not ready to compromise.

She was already tired of the whole thing.

_“That seems completely acceptable to me.”_ the Head Gamemaker agreed. _“Do try to convince Katniss and Peeta.”_

Haymitch rolled his eyes and handed the children to Effie before stalking to the phone. “Bye, Plutarch.” It wasn’t exactly polite but he just hung up and the screen faded to black. Then, he turned to her. “You’re okay?”

She took a deep breath and then offered him a shaky smile. “I think so.”

“Going back to the Capitol…” he hesitated.

“I do not like it much either.” she offered and then she placed April and Aidan down on their respective chairs. “We will stay at my parents’ if it is alright with you. Or at Lyssa’s if you prefer. I do not want to go to a hotel. I…”

“It’s fine with me.” he cut her off. “Whatever.” He sneaked his arms around her waist and held her close, coiling his hand around the back of her neck. “As long as you’re sure it’s okay.”

“You will be with me and I will be safe.” she countered. “ _We_ will be safe.”

He answered that with a kiss that had April clapping in delight and Aidan wrinkling his little nose because he wanted to be the only one to get cuddles from his mama.

The children barged in at that point, laughing and carefree like _they_ had been before that phone call. It didn’t last. As soon as they glimpsed their faces, both of them grew apprehensive.

“What happened?” Katniss asked, grabbing Peeta’s hand.

“Sit down and let’s have lunch before it is entirely burned.” Effie sighed. “We will tell you all about it.”

Haymitch did most of the talking. She mostly pushed her pastas all around  her plate, staring at her glass of water or helping April eat without putting food everywhere. She felt Peeta’s knowing gaze on her a few times but she never glanced back.

“And you’re going, then?” the boy finally asked, once Haymitch had finished explaining.

“Yes.” she said directly to her plate of pasta. “I am. But do not feel _you_ have to. I am sure the anniversary events will be fabulous but I know how much you dislike parties and…”

“That’s not about the parties or the anniversary, Effie.” Katniss cut her off. “It’s about you. What you’re going to do… It’s _huge_.”

“Paylor’s announcement will certainly make history.” she granted.

“No.” the girl countered again. “It’s huge for _you_.”

Effie licked her lips but still did not look up, not even when she felt Haymitch take her hand.

“What Katniss means…” Peeta declared after a few seconds of silence. “Is that, of course, we’re coming. We want to be there to support you.”

Stupid tears burned her eyes and Haymitch’s squeezing her hand didn’t help one bit. It did not help either when Peeta stood up and walked around the table to hug her and she completely lost it when Katniss did the same.

Nerves.

It was all _nerves_ and she got the tears under control before it turned to an embarrassing display but...

“I love you all so much.” she confessed.

_Her_ _family_.

They made her feel like she could move mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it couldn't be fluff up until the end right? And so we leave for the city... Any idea how that will work out? Let me know!


	73. 22 Months & 10 Months (2)

“Which one of the babies do you want?”

Haymitch barked the question more than he asked it and he immediately regretted his tone. The tension in the small room as the hovercraft began his descent toward the Capitol was already reaching its peak. It had been two weeks of tension actually. Two weeks of Effie frantically designing and sewing proper outfits for the trip, packing only to unpack, roaming the house at night and scrubbing it from floors to ceilings all day. It had been a while since she had been so agitated, so _fragile_ and…

“I will take Snowball.” Effie replied in a soft, almost faint voice.

She grabbed the leach Haymitch had just clipped on the dog’s blue sparkly collar. Their fingers brushed and she flashed him a poor excuse of a smile. He forced himself to smirk back but it was strained.

He hadn’t been able to relax either since Plutarch’s phone call.

It wasn’t just the perspective of her publicly acknowledging what had happened to her during the war when she could _barely_ talk about it in private. It was the fact that they were heading to the Capitol – that they were now about to _land_ in the Capitol– with their kids. _All_ of their kids. It made him anxious, paranoid…

The Samoyed wasn’t used to the leach at all and he shook himself, probably hoping to get rid of it. Haymitch felt bad for him. They usually let him roam free but in the city… It would have been wiser to leave him behind but to whom? He had left the geese is Sae’s care but she was far too old to handle the dog. The Clarkes had offered but while they were close friends, it was such an imposition to leave Snowball to them for more than a week that Effie had refused. Besides, he knew just how much the dog could calm her down and make her feel safe and he knew it might come in handy at some point.

“Be careful out there, yeah?” he still requested. “He’s not used to all the cars and everything.”

She gave him a meek nod and crouched to scratch Snowball’s head, hoping to calm him down. After three hours trapped in the hovercraft, the Samoyed was understandably restless. Haymitch thought they all were.

“I’m taking April.” Katniss declared, not leaving much room for debate. She picked up the sleepy toddler who, far from protesting, simply grabbed the girl’s leather jacket with a hum, hugging her cat rag doll close to her chest. She had been sick twice on the way already, her young body not receptive to the flight.

Katniss had been fidgety for the last hour at least and she looked just as anxious as Haymitch felt. She looked ready to fight teeth and nails if necessary and the way she was holding April tight…

For a moment, he let himself wonder why they were doing this at all when it would have been so much easier to stay hidden in the Village.

“Do you want the luggage or the jellyfish?” Peeta asked, jolting his knees so Aidan would laugh in delight.

Haymitch’s son had made himself at home on the boy’s lap during the last hour of the flight and Peeta was the only one still sitting. Not just because of the baby, either. Peeta was the only one who didn’t look _overly_ worried.

“I’m gonna leave the luggage to you.” he joked – or tried to but it came out harsher than intended. “I’m an old man now.”

“When it suits you.” Katniss mocked.

And then the hovercraft touched ground, jerking them all for a second, and any attempt to joke the situation away was forgotten. Haymitch strapped the baby carrier sling to his chest and after Effie made sure the babies were both suitably wrapped in their coats, scarves and beanies, they all exited the hovercraft.

As it turned out, Peeta had the best part of the deal because the hovercraft attendants insisted they would take care of their luggage.

They emerged out of the hovercraft on a military landing strip on the outskirt of the city, as agreed beforehand, to avoid too much press attention too soon. They were all aware they wouldn’t escape it forever but they wanted to control it as much as possible. 

“At last!” Plutarch exclaimed, quickly walking away from his slick black limo to meet them halfway with a big smile.

Uncharitably, Haymitch thought he had put on more weight since he had become Secretary of Communication and that the hair implants weren’t working that great for him. A sharp elbow in his side reminded him that voicing any of that aloud was probably a sure way to get scolded later on. He glanced at Effie, whose features were schooled in a polite pleasant expression, and he smirked. If she was still watching out for his manners, she was alright.

“Effie!” Plutarch exclaimed first, planting a daring kiss on her cheek despite the Samoyed’s protective grumbling. He then moved on to Katniss whose cheek he kissed too before patting April’s head with a stupid enchanted smile. “You _do_ have a lovely girl.” he praised and then shook Peeta’s hands with enthusiasm before finally moving toward Haymitch with arms open wide.

It was very obvious Plutarch was going for a hug and Haymitch would have probably avoided it altogether if there hadn’t been another pointy elbow in his side. This time, he shot Effie a glare but she simply lifted an eyebrow. The whole thing lasted less than a second and when Plutarch finally closed in, all he could do was turn a little sideway to avoid Aidan getting crushed in the middle. The sideway hug didn’t deter Plutarch who clapped his shoulder twice before peering at the baby in the sling with another delighted smile.

It wasn’t that Haymitch didn’t like Plutarch. He had been happy to call the man a friend in Thirteen. They had shared a compartment, a vision about what they wanted Panem’s future to be… But then the actual taking of the Capitol had happened and… Katniss might be blaming Gale Hawthorne for what had happened to her sister but Haymitch had his own set of culprits. Coin hadn’t taken the decision to launch the Hummingbird Operation alone. Plutarch had been there every step of the way. And he hadn’t talked her out of it.

And it wasn’t something Haymitch could forgive.

“I am so happy to see all of you again!” the Secretary of Communication insisted, ushering them toward the limo that wouldn’t be really inconspicuous even in the city.

If he noticed the less than enthusiastic answer, he didn’t let on. Once they were all comfortably settled in the car, Effie made an effort to keep up with the conversation while Haymitch kept his baby girl close to his side and a protective hand on Aidan’s back. The dog had curled up on top of Effie’s feet. Katniss stared through the window with her jaw clenched and her fists bundled on her lap until Peeta covered one of her hands with his. The girl relaxed and smiled back at the boy.

Haymitch didn’t relax or smile. He was too far from the window to get a proper look and he wasn’t sure he wanted to anyway. Rationally, he knew everything would look different. The city had been badly damaged during the war and most of the buildings had been destroyed, entire blocks had collapsed… The layout would be different, it would be like being in another city entirely.

And yet…

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or feeling even more dreadful when the car finally came to a stop after a good forty-five minutes drive. April had been awake and irritable for the last twenty of them, not used to being trapped in such a small space any more than the dog was. Effie had settled her on her lap but the toddler remained ill-tempered and they eventually figured she still wasn’t feeling that well. The hovercraft trip hadn’t agreed with her stomach and she refused water and food.

On that account, he was glad to arrive but knowing everything it would trigger…

The street was lined with impressive looking houses that seemed designed to make visitors feel insignificant. The display of wealth was so obvious it made him wrinkle his nose as soon as he stepped out of the car. Before he could make a comment though, the front door of the closest house opened and out came Elindra and Tadius.

They didn’t _rush_ , of course, because it would have been _inappropriate_ and Haymitch could feel the eyes of the neighbors spying on them from behind their curtains but they certainly looked eager enough. Elindra had pale pink hair nowadays and he had to swallow back a gibe as soon as he saw her.

Fortunately, the woman was more interested in the baby strapped to his chest than by him and thus she didn’t see his mocking expression.

“Oh, how you grew up…” she beamed, immediately stealing Aidan away from Haymitch. It was hard to resist the instinctive urge to grab the baby back. Not that he didn’t trust Elindra now but being back in the city… Finally, the Capitol looked up at him with a genuine smile that was a rare sight on her face and briefly squeezed his arm – partly in greetings, partly in thanks for finally agreeing to come, he figured. “Haymitch. Welcome home.”

_This isn’t home_ , he wanted to say but he suffered the air kisses on his cheeks and her clucking of tongue when she declared he looked tired and should invest in some foundation powder. Soon enough, she had moved on to her daughter and granddaughter and he was facing Tadius’ outstretched hand. He shook it gladly, letting the Capitol pat his shoulder twice, knowing the Trinkets were honestly happy to see them. If anything, that made the trip worthwhile.

It had been a recurrent request of theirs for Haymitch and Effie to bring the children over.

There was a lot of noises and exclamations, greetings being exchanged, goodbyes when Plutarch declared he needed to go back to the office…

They were all herded inside the house by Elindra.

“Leave the luggage, Peeta dear, we have staff for that.” she chided the boy, nudging him toward the front door.

And there _was_ a staff. A butler who supervised the others, a ballet of maids in dark uniforms, a couple of men… It made him uncomfortable so he took a good look around instead. 

The main hall was… _cold_. All marble and gold moldings that looked very grand but also very… soulless.

Effie leaned against his side, her eyes darting around, probably taking note of what had changed and what was the same… They hadn’t really discussed that, he realized, coming back to her parents’ house… It had been her idea but the last time she had been there they had kicked her out and…

“Alright!” Elindra declared, speaking loud to cover the different conversations that were going on and the joyful chaos of coats, scarves and hats being taken away by the maids. “I am sure you all must be very tired after that trip and would like to rest for an hour or two. Tea will be served at four in the small parlor for those of you who wish it.”

“That means everyone regardless of personal wishes.” Effie whispered blankly for Haymitch’s attention alone.

“Jenkins will show you to your respective rooms.” the Capitol continued, nodding at the butler who professionally nodded back.

“I think I can find the way by myself.” Effie replied, her tone polished to sound casual rather than confrontational.

Elindra blinked and, for a second, there was an odd tension between the two of them. Haymitch briefly wondered if being in the Capitol would destroy all the progress they had made. Effie hadn’t been happy in that house, he knew that – and he also knew only too well how some places could wake up old wounds.

“Naturally.” Tadius cut in with a good-natured chuckle. “The nursery is ready for the children. It is perfectly suitable, you will see. We had it refurbished a couple of years ago for Bryden and Timotheo. And we bought beds for the babies… They should be comfortable. I was _assured_ it was the best on the market…”

“I am certain it will be perfect.” she agreed easily, her tone softening. .

“We thought you may like your old room.” Elindra said suddenly, a bit hesitant. “But there is another guest room closer to the nursery if you’d prefer. The maids can have it ready in a tick.”

Effie hesitated and Haymitch shuffled his weight on his feet because… _Closer_ was _better_ in his book. They had packed the baby monitors naturally but…

“Whatever you organized is fine, Mother.” she said eventually.

Elindra seemed to relax a little. “Very well. Katniss and Peeta are in the green guest room.”

“Thank you for having us, Mrs Trinket.” the boy timely offered. “Katniss and I really appreciate it.”

“Nonsense.” Effie’s mother dismissed with a brisk wave of her hand. “You are family, are you not? It _won’t_ be said I let family go to a _dreadful_ hotel when there are _perfectly_ suitable guest rooms in my house.”

Haymitch felt Effie relax next to him. Acknowledging the kids as part of their extended family was a step in the right direction. Elindra flashed her a hesitant smile that she answered in kind. Still, he thought the peace might not last forever when he heard Elindra mutter to Tadius “Did they _have_ to bring the dog?”. He quickly nudged his wife up the stairs, hoping she hadn’t heard. It would be stressful enough for all of them without their feud flaring back to life.  

The rest of the house was just as cold as the main hall.

Oh, it was all prestigious looking but… He couldn’t shake off the feeling it lacked everything of importance. There were elegant furniture but none of the clutter of a lived-in home, the walls were painted a sad shade of white, the framed paintings – while probably expensive and originals – looked bland,  most of the tables and dressers were see-through or metal when it wasn’t marble…

Effie paused on the first floor to push a door while the kids continued down the corridor, following the taciturn butler…

“This is the nursery.” she declared.

He peeked inside to find everything _had_ been prepared for them. There were toys neatly aligned on shelves – although most of them had probably belonged to Effie and Lyssa first given the numerous amount of dolls, there were also a few that were clearly her nephews’ and some that were obviously brand new and more adapted for small children – soft plushy rugs on the floor and two identical beds made out of pale wood. The first thing Haymitch did was check April wouldn’t be able to get out if she tried to – and she _did_ try to more and more.

“Katniss and Peeta’s bedroom is down the corridor.” Effie continued, adjusting her hold on April who had insisted on being carried at some point. She was still clutching Snowball’s leach in her other hand and the dog was getting impatient to be allowed to explore, he was sniffing around like crazy. “Ours is on the third floor with the master bedroom and Lyssa’s old room.”

One floor up from their kids…

He wasn’t sure he liked that.

“Lead the way.” he grumbled.

Neither of them suggested leaving the children in the nursery and Haymitch was already plotting how to get those two beds up in their bedroom – assuming they would fit.

He was aware Effie’s breathing wasn’t quite natural. She was clearly making an effort to remain collected but he wasn’t sure if it was because she was fighting a panic attack or because the house brought back memories. Sometimes she discreetly brushed her hand against the wall or her lips stretched into a small sad smile…

“You’re okay?” he asked eventually when she stopped in front of a closed door that he assumed to be their room.

“Yes.” she promised. “I simply never thought I would come back here again.” April was fussy in her arms and she pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I know, darling. It will get better.”

She pushed the door open to find their suitcases piled in a corner. Haymitch looked around eagerly, having been ready for a teenager’s room and disappointed by how… _neutral_ the whole bedroom looked. He had seen two of her apartments over the years – and he had seen what she had done with his house – this wasn’t an Effie Trinket place to leave. The walls were a boring shade of caramel, the framed artworks on the wall were very generic and there was absolutely no personal touch. None at all. None of the eccentric colors he had gotten used to, no crazy spark, nothing.

“ _That’s_ your old room?” he scoffed, disappointed.

She placed April down on the immaculate bedcover before flashing him a smile over her shoulder. “My parents turned it into a guest room two weeks after I moved out.”

He wrinkled his nose, putting Aidan next to his sister. “Harsh.”

She shrugged it off with apparent casualness but he could see it still stung. He couldn’t imagine doing anything like that to their children.

He watched her dig into one of the suitcases, fishing out April’s huge stuffed dog that looked so much like Snowball – Snowball who was very busy investigating the en-suited bathroom for the moment but who would ask to be taken out very soon. He grabbed the water bowl from another suitcase and filled it with water for him, taking a second to shake his head at the amount of luggage they had. _He_ traveled light – or he would have if Effie hadn’t insisted on packing up suits and public event appropriate outfits – but she had two suitcases for herself, one for each of the kids – clothes, baby related stuff and toys alike – and a bag full of Snowball’s stuff – his bed, the purple monkey, a spare collar and leach, a brand new dog harness in case he was being too difficult outside because they didn’t want to take any risk with his safety, his plate, his water bowl and a few chew toys. What had happened to the time he could live a month with a single bag?

“Here you go, my darling.” Effie hummed in the bedroom. Haymitch petted the dog for a couple of minutes, watching him lap the water eagerly. “And here for you, my jellyfish.”

When he walked out of the bathroom, Aidan was sucking on the bottle full of water they had packed for the trip. A similar bottle was capped on the bed next to April but the girl seemed happier cuddling her toy, curled up on the bed.

“You think she’s alright?” he worried, immediately feeling his daughter’s forehead. It was a little warm but nowhere near feverish.

“Just an upset stomach, I think.” Effie shook her head, taking the children’s shoes off since they were both on the bed. “The hovercraft didn’t agree with her and that car trip felt _endless_.”

He flopped down on the mattress next to their daughter who immediately used his thigh as a pillow. He ran his fingers through her disheveled blond hair, not quite reassured. “I give it two hours. If she’s still feeling sick I’m gonna ask your dad if he knows a good doctor.”

“Agreed.” Effie hummed, tickling Aidan’s tummy. The boy wriggled and laughed but soon grabbed his stuffed giraffe and crawled closer to his sister, his eyelids drooping. He hadn’t napped in the hovercraft and the trip was starting to take its toll. It wasn’t long before Snowball jumped on the bed to curl against the boy’s back, completing the mass of sleeping babies. Effie’s lips twitched with unabashed amusement. “Aren’t you all cute.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes but alternated between petting April’s hair and rubbing Aidan’s back when he wasn’t scratching the dog’s head. He took a couple of seconds, let it _sink_ that they were all alright. Yes, they were in the city but that didn’t mean anything bad would happen. They would all take care of this anniversary stuff and their children would be safe with their grandparents, they would have fun – as much fun as possible with _Elindra_ anyway – and they would get to spend some time with their cousins which was… Well, Haymitch wasn’t sure what it was. He had never expected to get a family _that_ large but he wasn’t against it now that he was used to it.

“Are you alright?” Effie asked carefully, gently reaching out to brush his hair away from his face.

He snorted and looked up at her, a self-deprecating smirk on his lips. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Her smile was tentative and didn’t reach her eyes, still when she leaned in and stole a kiss, he didn’t protest.

“Apil too.” their daughter mumbled.

Effie chuckled and bent down to give the requested cuddle, careful not to wake Aidan who had fallen asleep, his little fist clutching his sister’s sweater. He watched her straighten up and kick off her heels before turning to the suitcases. He wasn’t surprised when she immediately started unpacking.

“Being in the Capitol feels weird.” she admitted after a couple of minutes.

“Don’t tell me.” he sighed, flopping down on his back and staring at the cream colored ceiling. Who painted _ceilings_? “You think Annie and Jo are already here?”

“They are only arriving tonight, aren’t they?” Effie frowned. “I am fairly sure that’s what Johanna told me.”

“And tomorrow the circus starts.” he grumbled, closing his eyes. He wasn’t eager to be paraded around again. He wasn’t eager at all.

It would start with a press conference for the surviving members of the Star Squad and the remaining victors. Then an official dinner at the presidential mansion, followed the next day by the commemoration ceremony and the unveiling of whatever statue was waiting at the City Circle – and how _Katniss_ was going to go through _that_ he wasn’t sure but they could probably get her excused if she didn’t feel like doing it – and the day after that there would be Paylor’s announcement and Effie’s big speech followed by the ball at the mansion. There would be more stuff afterwards, some interviews and campaigning for the next election that only concerned him.

Effie didn’t comment and kept on putting clothes away in the dresser and the wardrobe. He watched her carry their toiletry bags to the bathroom and gave her a small pout. “So, I don’t get to see your childhood bedroom but do I get to see embarrassing baby pictures?”

She came out of the bathroom with her lips pursed but a spark of amusement in her eyes. “I am afraid none of those exists.”

“Liar.” he accused. He would ask Tadius, he decided. He was interested in baby pictures. He wanted to see if their children looked like her younger self.

“Now, now, darling…” she chided, laugher in her voice. “Is that any way to talk to your wife?”

He shrugged, propping himself on his elbows. “My wife refuses to be embarrassed.”

“How disappointing of her.” she grinned, her hands on her hips. She studied him for a moment and then rolled her eyes. “Very well. If you insist.”

Before he could ask what she meant, she was kneeling next to the bed and blindly feeling around beneath it. He sat up straighter, watching her with curiosity – and jerking April who sighed as if it was a great inconvenience and sat up too, her rag doll and the stuffed dog both clutched to her chest, before reaching for her untouched bottle of water. His attention was momentarily diverted when his daughter shook the bottle in a commanding fashion with something akin to a demanding grunt.

“Words, sweetheart.” he reminded her.

They always encouraged her to talk rather than make noises but the unimpressed look she threw him at that second – so very similar to Effie’s pissed off one – made him roll his eyes and take the lid off the bottle. She sucked on it eagerly, which, he supposed, meant she felt better.

Meanwhile, there was a popping sound from under the bed and Effie exclaimed in triumph.

“The _fuck_ you’re doing?” he frowned.

“Watch your tongue in front of the children.” Effie reminded him, half her body was under the bed now and when she finally came out, she had a couple of floorboards in her hand.

“Your mother’s okay with you destroying the floor work?” he mocked.

Effie tossed him a glare. “It has always been loose. I used the space as a hiding place.” It took some more work but she eventually managed to level out a square box from under the bed. She shifted to sit down before rubbing her palms together to get rid of the dust, her nose wrinkled. “There. Now you can make fun of my teenage self to your heart’s content.”

He eagerly snatched the box from her and opened it while she went to thoroughly wash her hands in the bathroom – he didn’t make fun of her for _that_ , he knew only too well how she hated feeling dirty and how easily it could trigger a flashback.

He opened the box, smirking hard when he found what unmistakably was a pink diary. He set that aside for later consideration, not sure she would mind him poking around it or not. There were a couple of trinkets, a battered packet half full of cigarettes, a pink lighter that probably didn’t work anymore, a few folded sketches of ridiculous looking dresses… And at the very bottom.

He laughed when his fingers closed around the action figure. He couldn’t help himself. “Seriously?”

She leaned against the bathroom’s threshold and folded her arms in front of her chest, a teasing smile on her lips. “You wanted to mock my naïve self, didn’t you? Here is your chance.”

He inspected the toy, still chuckling. There had been action figures of all victors. They were toys for children mostly but he knew some crazy people collected them religiously. He had seen a couple of his from time to time, he had even signed some. The likeness had been good but now that he wasn’t sixteen it was really hard to tell, the action figure’s hands were empty but he knew it originally came with a set of plastic knives. Later, it had been re-edited with a knife _and_ a bottle.

“Tell me, sweetheart…” he teased. “What did you do with that toy?”

She lifted her eyebrows in challenge. “ _Wouldn’t_ you like to know.”

He could just picture it. Her twelve year-old self romancing the action figure and inventing ridiculous stories in which he fell in love with her at first sight… And then, when she had been older…

His mind was saved from falling into the gutter by his daughter reaching for the toy.

“Apil?” April asked, looking at him with those blue puppy eyes he could never say no to.

He looked at Effie uncertainly, not sure he was comfortable letting their child play with that. It had been funny when he had thought about his wife doing it but… It was a reminder of a time long gone, of something he wasn’t proud of and…

“I do not see the harm in it…” Effie hesitated. “It is just a toy. And how many children can say they have an action figure of their father?”

He licked his lips and studied the action figure, unable to really see himself in it anymore. He used to hate those things like he hated everything reminding him of his arena, of his status, but now… That had been so long ago…

“I guess.” he relented eventually, letting April take it. It was heavy for her little hand and it fell on the bed. Their daughter didn’t see _the victor_ when she looked at it. She was just seeing a toy. And like all kids presented with a toy, she wanted to play with it. “You’re feeling better, shrimp, yeah?”

He felt her forehead again, happy to find her skin cool to the touch. Color had come back to her cheeks too and he let himself breathe, relieved that it had just been motion sickness and not something direr. He hated to see his kids sick.

“We should all change.” Effie declared, clapping her hands once. “We will feel better in clean clothes.”

“I’m good.” he protested. Of course, she pursed her lips at him and he ended up rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna walk the dog and _then_ I’ll change. Deal?”

“Deal.” she humored him, as if she hadn’t just gotten her way.

She selected a new outfit for April – a dress Elindra had bought her – and started the long process of undressing and then dressing the child again, of course interrupted by April’s timely “Potty!” declaration. Aidan was still sleeping so they didn’t disturb him for the moment. Instead, Haymitch watched Effie discard her traveling outfit for a dress that color coordinated with April’s and he swallowed back a remark because he didn’t like when she did stuff like that. There was no harm in it, he knew that, and the girl loved wearing matching outfits with her mother but he couldn’t help but feel it was all too… _Capitol_.

“We should drag one of the baby beds in there.” he suggested after a while of watching her get ready. Two beds wouldn’t fit but they could probably wedge one between their bed and the window. “April can sleep with us if it’s too tiny for them to share.”

She considered it, he saw it, saw her eyes traveling over their children, but then she shook her head. “I don’t want them in the same room as us. I… I don’t know about you but I am fairly certain I will have nightmares and…” She licked her lips and looked away. “There _is_ another guest room closer to the nursery. Or if you want to sleep in there with them…”

“I’m staying with you.” he cut her off. She would need him more than the babies would. He knew that. He also knew the babies would be alright and safe. It was just… This was a foreign house in an hostile city. “You’ve got the baby monitors packed anyway, yeah?”

“And Peeta and Katniss will be down the nursery’s corridor.” She nodded. “They _will_ be safe, Haymitch.”

“Yeah, I know.” he admitted.

But _knowing_ and _accepting_ weren’t the same thing.

She cleared her throat. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah?” He had something for her too but he was saving it for the day she would give that speech. “What?” And then he smirked because when she gave him stuff… “Kinky lingerie?”

She laughed at the hopeful hint in his voice and fetched something from one of the suitcases. It was wrapped in silver paper with a neat red bow on top. She was a little hesitant when she handed it to him, a small blush on her cheeks. They didn’t really do spontaneous gifts. He didn’t know how to accept them graciously and she always started thinking he had something to atone for when he gave her stuff.

“What’s this for?” he frowned, unwrapping the gift quickly before April could get it into her head to help him. His frown deepened when he found a familiar dark blue box, marked with Twelve’s only jewelry shop brand. It explained why the owner had asked him if they had an anniversary coming on. He glanced at the old battered and scratched golden bangle around his wrist and made a face. “Tell me it ain’t the matching manacle.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he lifted his hand in a defensive gesture. “Fine, fine, no joking…” he grumbled before opening the box.

There was a watch in there. And not _any_ watch but one he had actually been eyeing in the store’s window for a while but had denied himself because… Well, he didn’t really need it and money was better spent on other stuff. But, then again, he had the suspicion she hadn’t bought it with _their_ money but with what she earned with her dressmaking job – otherwise he would have seen it when he had checked the bills.

“Effie…” he whispered, a lump in his throat. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know I didn’t _have_ to.” she replied. “I _wanted_ to. You have been…” She stopped and let out a long breath. “You have been so patient and supportive and now _this_ , coming back here for me…” She gave him a small shrug. “I saw you looking at it and you _never_ buy anything for yourself so…” He picked it up from the box, intending to put it on, when she cleared her throat. “There is an engraving.”

He turned the watch around, brushing his thumb against the words carved in the silver.

_Forever yours. E._

He smirked because that was exactly the sort of foolish sentimental display she was fond of and he hated. He put the watch on, the brown leather straps warming quickly against his skin, and admired the elegant face for a second. Then he stood up, cupped her cheek in his hand and drew her in a deep kiss that was a little too dirty given their audience.

Not that April was paying them any attention, she was very busy making his old action figure straddle the stuffed dog like a pony.

“I love you.” he reminded her, the words slipping from his lips with more ease than it used to. He told his children from time to time because he never wanted them to doubt. They were always difficult to utter but he always meant them. “There’s no need for thanks in there.”

“I love you too.” she grinned, stealing another kiss. “And, yes, there _is_.”

He kissed her again because they would have to agree to disagree on that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back in the city! Do you think it will go okay? Can Effie and Elindra live together without killing each other? What does Haymitch has for Effie? let me know!


	74. 22 Months & 10 Months (3)

“You’re alright?” 

Effie startled, not sure if it was the question or the hand Haymitch placed on her shoulder that finally disrupted the ringing in her ears. She forced a strained smile that immediately made his face close in a worried way.

“You don’t have to do this.” he insisted. “You can still change your mind.”

Except it was a little late now given where they were standing. She hadn’t forgotten how busy the backstage of that kind of events always was but the constant agitation was a little overwhelming. She had been requested to sit while someone checked her hair and redid her make-up so she wouldn’t look too shiny on TV…

She nervously smoothed the green dress she had designed especially for that day. It was elegant. Nothing outlandish, almost severe. The lines were clean and straight, it went down to a little over her knees… The butterfly necklace didn’t really go well with it, pearls would have been more appropriate but the butterfly always made her feel better, more confident, and so she had insisted on keeping it when her mother had remarked on the accessories issue. Elindra hadn’t insisted aside from offering to lend her a row of pearls and matching earrings, she had even said Effie looked lovely – which might have been out of worry her daughter would lose it before she even reached the stage.

The last few days had been… difficult.

She had been having nightmares, the children woke up at least three times a night, unused to their new room and the strange house with the city noises still faintly audible despite the thick glass of the windows, and between one and the other, rest had been a hard thing to get. Haymitch tossed and turned all night, more upset by being back in the Capitol than he probably wanted to admit. He got up to check on the kids even when they weren’t crying.

Effie had chosen not to show up at the press conference on the first day since it mostly concerned surviving members of the Star Squad and victors. She had watched it live on TV with her sister and her mother instead, amused by how utterly uninterested April and Aidan were to see their father on the screen. It had gone as well as could be expected, with questions that only probed at old wounds.

She hadn’t escaped the official dinner at the mansion that same night but that, at least, had been bearable if only because there had been very little press present. They had been forced to pose for a couple of cameras but that had been the extent of it. She had mostly spent the rest of the night smiling on Haymitch’s arm while he discussed politics with members of various cabinets when he didn’t outright approached Secretaries. She knew he hadn’t done it on purpose but she had resented a little being forced to play the role of the trophy wife.

Katniss had given the inauguration of the commemoration statue a wide pass the next day, unwilling to go back to the City Circle. Peeta had accepted to do the honors in her stead and had made a beautiful speech, like he always did.

Too soon, it had been time for Paylor’s announcement and there they were now, ten minutes away from the thing Effie had been dreading for weeks.

“Sweetheart.” Haymitch reminded her, reaching for her hand, stopping her from erasing imaginary creases off her dress.

She had yet to answer him, she realized.

“I am alright.” she promised.

And she started fussing with her hair instead.

It was Katniss who had done it that morning. Effie hadn’t gone down for breakfast, too sick with nerves to do anything but fret about her outfit, the speech she had prepared – and that Plutarch had sent back several times with requests to adjust the language as if this was all about politics and not at all about her, something that had sent Haymitch in a violent rage. When Katniss had sneaked in her bedroom, she had been in the process of almost scalping herself by running the hairbrush far too hard in her curls. The girl had silently taken over and braided her hair, pining it up in a way that was very similar to the Mockingjay’s braid.

_So they don’t forget_ , the girl had claimed.

Anyone would have troubles forgetting who stood with her when all the remaining victors – Beetee included but minus Enobaria – were sitting front row that day.

“Can’t lie to me.” Haymitch scolded gently, reaching out to squeeze her nape. “I’m serious though. You want to bail out, I’m taking you out of here.”

She was so _very_ tempted to agree. So very tempted…

But it wouldn’t solve anything, would it? The truth would still come out but she wouldn’t have any say about the form that truth would take.

She coiled her fingers around his wrist, anchoring herself. “I need to do this.”

He searched her eyes for a second and then sighed.

He looked older in the city, she had noticed, more… _troubled_. Sometimes, she looked at him and it was hard to remember _when_ they were. He was no longer the carefree father and husband who laughed more often. In the Capitol, he had bags under his eyes, he stood that little bit straighter as if to make himself more threatening to the numerous sharks lurking around, he looked perpetually serious… He had also gone back to wearing three-pieces suits and the waistcoats alone brought back memories.

He looked like the mentor he wasn’t anymore and it made her wonder what _she_ looked like.

She was aware her accent was more pronounced, her speech pattern more formal – although that tended to come out when exposed to her family for a long time – she was also more prone to cover her nervousness with a laugh or a joke, to hide her true feelings behind cheerfulness and to pretend she was too dumb to understand when she simply wished to avoid a question. In short, she was aware she had been acting a little too much like the escort she used to be.

How quickly they fell back on old patterns, she mused.

“Got something for you.” he mumbled and then fished a small jewelry box out of his pocket.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “ _What ever_ for?”

She was always a little suspicious when men offered flowers or shiny diamonds out of the blue. It was never a good thing in her experience, simply a way for them to appease their conscience. However it was Haymitch and she trusted Haymitch completely.

“A reminder.” he shrugged awkwardly, shaking the box to indicate she should just take it.

She did with a genuine smile and opened it, not quite surprised to find a ring in it given the size. It was exquisite and she recognized the custom work of Twelve’s jewel maker immediately. The ring was large, chiseled into two delicate feathers intertwining around a sparkling blue sapphire that matched her butterfly.

“Haymitch…” she whispered. She was pretty sure it was an unique piece, just like her necklace, which meant he had designed it – or had at least chosen the basics. “It is beautiful!”

He plucked the ring out of the box before she could do it herself and showed her the inside. Two dates were engraved there and the meaning of the two feathers became instantly clear. Their children’s birthdays. Without a word, he slid it on her middle finger and then ran his thumb on her knuckles.

“You’re _never_ alone.” he told her in a quiet voice. “You’ve got us waiting of you. Always. You go through this and you’ve got us waiting.”

She clenched her jaw because she didn’t trust herself not to start crying. And if she started, she knew she would never stop. She didn’t need to say anything though, he knew her too well. His mouth stretched into a smirk that was a little too strained and he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a long kiss on the back of it.

“Pardon me for intruding…” a man said to their left, after clearing his throat. “My name is…”

“I know who you are Mr Caldwell.” Effie cut him off. It was a little rude and she tried to smooth it away with a smile and an outstretched hand. She didn’t miss the protective step Haymitch took closer to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, Miss Trinket.” he offered, shaking her hand.

Up close, the scar on his face was even more impressive. He had probably been handsome before, now he looked oddly mismatched. It made her slightly grateful that hers were out of sight and easily hidden. She wasn’t sure she would have survived a scar like that on her face. She was too vain for that.

“Abernathy.” she corrected. She was a little annoyed about that. She had _told_ Plutarch she didn’t go by Trinket anymore but the Secretary of Communication was strangely insistent that her maiden name made her more identifiable – and, in hers and Haymitch’s opinion, it also helped make a distinction between her and Twelve’s Quell victor in people’s mind, which was probably better for polls.

“Of course. My apologies.” the Head of the Association for Capitol Recognition nodded. “Mr Abernathy.” Haymitch shook the offered hand a second too late for the hesitation not to be obvious but if Mr Caldwell noticed, he didn’t let on. “I wanted to thank you for doing this. I know it cannot be easy but… We have been fighting for this moment since the end of the war and…”

“Like we had a choice.” Haymitch scoffed.

Effie gave him a discreet kick in the ankle. He shot her a mild glare and then rolled his eyes.

“I was given to understand you volunteered to do this.” Mr Caldwell frowned.

“I _was_ volunteered more than I _did_ volunteer.” Effie joked without much humor. “I suppose it is karma.”

“Effie.” Haymitch sighed.

“It is fine. I am fine.” she promised with a small smile, turning her new ring around her finger. “I just want to get this over with so I can go back to our babies.”

She was dying for a cuddle.

April and Aidan were with Lyssa who had volunteered to keep an eye on the children – hers as well as Finn – so their parents could be there for her. The thought of Elindra and Tadius sitting next to Katniss and Peeta in the audience _was_ a comfort, truth be told. And she knew Lyssa would take care of her children for the simple reason that she dotted on them.

Still, she was dying to hold them, breathe them in, forget about the past and focus on her present and future. _They_ were real life. This, all of this, it was just a nightmare.

“Mrs Abernathy…” Mr Caldwell’s frown deepened. “If you do not want to do this, I urge you to reconsider. We are not in a habit of forcing people to out themselves at the AFCR. Secretary Heavensbee…”

“You’ll find Secretary Heavensbee says a lot of _crap_ to get what he wants.” Haymitch snorted, shaking his head.

“Still.” the Capitol man insisted. “I am only too aware of how… _fragile_ one may be after the kind of ordeal we went through. Your mental well-being should always be your first priority. If you feel this will be positive for you, then do it. But if you are here because someone roped you into this…”

The _we_ first shocked her like a slap because that _we_ used to be only Johanna, Peeta and her. Annie too, she supposed, but nobody had ever really touched Annie. And then she realized, he had been down there too. So had been many of the people who would be in the audience that day. And those people… Those people who had been trying to convince Panem they were telling the truth for years… Nobody with enough weight was willing to speak for them.

She had the weight.

Almost the whole country might hate her for what she embodied but she _had_ the weight.

She was calmer suddenly.

“I will speak.” she simply stated.

A timid staff girl with pink hair and a huge headset approached Haymitch. “Sir, please, it’s about to start. If you could take your seat in the audience…”

Haymitch glanced from the Capitol man to her. “You want me to stay?”

“No. I want to be able to look at you.” she requested.

He nodded once, cupped her cheek and, after a moment of hesitation, placed a long kiss on her lips. He hadn’t kissed her once in public since they had arrived in the city. They hadn’t been touching as much as usual either, they kept to a respectable distance. _Habits_. Habits were really hard to break and being there, even after five years…

“I’m gonna be right there the whole time.” he promised, brushing his thumb against the ring he had just gifted her with. “When you’re done we go home.” Not to Twelve – it would be a few days before they could go back to their house – but to their children. “Chin up, sweetheart.”

“Eyes bright. Smile one.” she finished softly. “I can do this.”

“Sure, you can.” he smirked.

She smiled and squeezed his hand goodbye.

It went fast after that.

Calmus Caldwell was the first speaker on schedule and he was supposed to introduce her, she would give her testimony and then Paylor would take over.

She barely listened to a word the man said. Something about what the AFCR stood for: not erase or deny the horrors Snow’s government had perpetrated but shed some light on the fact some Capitols still stood on the right side or were unjustly punished by Coin’s administration. She couldn’t have said in which terms he spoke of her because her ears were ringing again.

Next thing she knew, the same pink-haired girl touched her elbow and told her to go.

She walked on the podium to clapping that sounded deafening to her but it probably was because all sounds were strangely distorted. It was a weird experience. She was there and she wasn’t. Her body took over, too used to public exposure even now to do anything but smile and nod her thanks for the welcome.

She went to stand behind the lectern, briefly touched the piece of paper on which her speech was printed, and then cleared her throat. She licked her lips, her gaze passing over the audience, the respectable amounts of government representatives amongst which Plutarch sat, the press at the back with their cameras, their mics and their frightening eagerness to record her every words, the strangers whose faces she didn’t know but who she supposed to be members of the AFCR, and, finally, her victors.

Beetee flashed her a kind smile when she met his eyes, Jo lifted her eyebrows, Annie seemed to be spacing out a little, Katniss jutted her chin in the air, Peeta smiled… Her mother was sitting road straight, her bearings absolutely queenly, her face blank but Effie knew she was nervous. Her father was staring at her, a small worried frown on his face.

It was only when she met Haymitch’s eyes that it occurred to her she had been standing there for a whole minute now and that she had yet to start. Some people were whispering…

Haymitch didn’t move. He just looked back at her, _waiting_.

And so she cleared her throat again and forced a bright smile on her lips.

“Good morning.” she said. “As some of you may know, my name is Effie Abernathy and…”

She saw Plutarch briefly cringe at the name she had chosen for herself but she didn’t let herself get distracted, she went on. She had rehearsed the speech several times, she knew it by heart, but it never got any easier to get the words out.

At some point, when she was done talking about her own wavering loyalties once he had realized how wrong the Games were, her voice became distant. She felt as if she was floating far above her body. Her mouth was moving, she was talking, but… It was all mechanical.

“I was never a rebel.” she added as an afterthought, even thought it wasn’t printed on the paper. And again she saw Plutarch fret nervously, mainly because she was going off-script. “I have always been rather cowardly and selfish when it came to my own life. There have been a lot of speculations about why I was pardoned when others were not… There have been a lot of theories… I can lay that particular one to rest, I was _never_ a part of the rebellion. I suppose I _was_ pardoned because of Haymitch’s insistence and the Mockingjay’s unwavering support like most people say.”

She paused and whispers started again.

She wanted to go on but her throat was closed and she couldn’t for the life of her utter a word. The silence went on, the whispers grew louder… She could glimpse Paylor’s tall figure at the corner of her eyes, where the President was waiting backstage, knew Plutarch was already trying to think of ways to salvage this disaster… She saw Peeta and Katniss exchange a look, she saw Katniss’ nod, saw them starting to stand up, instinctively knew what they were about to do…

Join her.

Finish that speech for her.

Stand with her.

_Always_.

Her team.

Her victors.

Her _children_.

“I was tortured.”

The whispers died.

Just like _that_ , like a blown candle, the whispers died.

And silence was deafening.

Her parents were holding hands now.

That shocked her a little because it was so… Not _improper_ exactly but it was far much more _feelings_ than Elindra had allowed herself in public for a _very_ long time.

“I was captured right after the arena exploded.” she recounted. “Although _grabbed_ might be a better word because…” She shook her head. “They wanted information. Information they knew I did not possess. I was tortured because I was Haymitch’s lover, Katniss and Peeta’s escort and because I quite foolishly made it _clear_ the Quell was unfair and if time came to choose a side, I would stand with them.” She blinked, unable to focus on anything or anyone anymore. “I bought matching tokens, I wore my hair in a Mockingjay’s braid under my wigs, I refused to heed Haymitch’s pleas for me to play the game just a little longer…”

She fell silent again but this time nobody talked. They allowed her the pause, suspended to her lips.

“They tortured me.” she whispered slowly. “They tortured me because they _could_. To taunt Haymitch from afar. To make Johanna and Peeta talk. They tortured me because I refused to let them hurt my victors. Because…” She closed her eyes. “It does _not_ change the fact I am guilty, I know. I _was_ an escort and I deserved…” She took a deep breath, now desperate to get out of there. “There were other Capitol people in those cells. Some of them less guilty than I am, most of them working for the rebellion… A lot of them were killed in the Purge for none other reason than the fact they had, at some point, been affiliated to the Games because the rebels…” Her eyes fell on the piece of paper and she corrected herself because Plutarch had _urged_ her to use the _right_ terminology. _The rebels_ was too vague a term, could apply to everyone who had fought. “Because _Thirteen_ under President Coin’s leadership executed them with only mockeries of trials that did not give them leave to explain themselves.”

A few people loudly protested that assessment but she didn’t let herself get distracted.

“Not everyone who was working for the Games were there of their own free will.” she continued. “ _Once in the Games, always in the Games_ was the unofficial mantra. While it was not my case, I know some other escorts, stylists or even hosts were coerced into staying when they had made it clear they wished to leave. Caesar Flickerman, who was executed less than a week after the surrender, had never agreed with the Games, for instance. He stayed because leaving would have been suicide and, ultimately, because he thought it was the only way he could help the tributes.” She waved that away with a flick of her hand, trying to get back on track. “District people suffered more than any of us Capitols. There is no denying _that_. However, perhaps… Perhaps it is time to stop seeing this as some sort of _competition_. We lost our children too in the City Circle bombing.”

She saw Plutarch tense on his chair because _that_ was definitely off-script.

Even Haymitch stood a little bit straighter, she could feel his eyes on her, insistent. And she met them, seeking his opinion.

Paylor wanted the truth out there, didn’t she?

_Well_ …

He looked at Beetee who looked back steadily, closed his eyes and nodded once. Haymitch stared back at her and she had her answer.

“Thirteen claimed _we_ were responsible for that, that _we_ killed our own children and the whole country believed it because the Capitol seal was branded on the hovercrafts that bombed them.” she went on, ignoring Plutarch frantic gesturing at her to cut it off. There were security agents nervously stomping on the side of the stage, out of sight, held back only by Paylor’s raised hand. “The truth was _Coin_ was responsible for their death, a death Primrose Everdeen shared. It was called Hummingbird Operation and it was immediately covered up to prevent _instability_. Alma Coin was not a hero, she was another tyrant, a _murderer_ , and _that_ is why she was killed.”

Katniss winced, she probably could have done without the reminder.

Jo and Annie were frowning at each other, having never been made aware of those facts.

It was chaos in the room now, people were talking, some were shouting – that she was a liar or for the government to explain itself she wasn’t sure.

She ignored everything and continued talking.  

“We were tortured. We bled. Our children died. It was war.” she read quickly. “The war is now over and we need to heal those wounds before they fester, to go forward as one, Capitol and Districts equally united for the good of Panem. Thank you.”

She forced herself to walk rather than run but it was difficult what with people screaming and the calls of her name from the back of the room where the press was gathered.

The President wasn’t impressed with her.

“If we don’t have an uprising on our hands by tonight, it will be a miracle.” Paylor hissed, glaring at her. “And this was _top secret_. I could have you and your husband arrested and secreted away forever if I wanted.”

“But you won’t.” Effie retorted with mostly fake confidence.

Truth be told, she hadn’t thought about that. Revealing the truth had been a spur of the moment decision. What right did they have what to pick and chose? They talked about transparency, released hers and dozens of people’s names out for everyone to gossip about the horrors they had been through, they schemed and schemed… _Enough_.

She liked Paylor well enough, she _did_ , but politics disgusted her and she was done playing the puppet.

“Play your cards right and you win the election right now.” Effie offered.

She had just taken Thirteen out of the equation and delivered the Capitol. All Paylor had to do now was pretend releasing that information was her idea – in the spirit of _commemoration_ – and turn it around. And if Paylor was _very, very_ good, they might even walk out of this a more united country.

She walked away from the President and while the security agents looked eager to grab her, none of them did.

“Is that true?” Calmus Caldwell asked, grabbing her arm.

She shrugged him off and kept walking without answering. She wasn’t really sure of where she was going until she was outside, at the back of the building, through the small discrete entrance they had used to come in. The fresh air hit her and she gasped, her legs suddenly far too shaky.

She didn’t have time to lean against the wall.

A hand rested at the small of her back and then she was in Haymitch’s familiar embrace.

“Plutarch’s having a _stroke_.” he chuckled in her ear and then he pressed a kiss against the side of her head. “That was reckless.”

“They wanted me to detail the torture.” she whispered. “They want to make the war archives public but they would _never_ have acknowledged this. They would have kept on treating Coin like a hero and…”

“You did well, sweetheart.” he reassured her. “High time someone wrecked their hypocritical little game. Besides, Paylor’s already getting ahead of it. Pretending it was all her idea…”

“I know. I told her to do that.” she sighed.

“Always the PR magician.” he snorted.

“No.” she denied, pressing her face against his shoulder. “Not anymore. I just want to go home.”

“Sure.” He shed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She realized she was shivering even thought it wasn’t that cold. He rubbed her arms a few times, studying her closely. “You’re good?”

He was watching for signs for an upcoming panic attack but she didn’t feel like she was about to have one. She felt… She had thought she would have felt lighter, _free_ perhaps, but it wasn’t like that. The darkness was still there, lingering in a corner of her head… Except she had gotten way better at ignoring it, at _accepting_ it was there and probably always would be but that it didn’t have to define her life.

She nodded and forced a smile. “Let’s go find our babies.”

“I’m gonna go warn the others we’re going, yeah?” he said. “They can’t leave now. Wouldn’t look good for Paylor.”

She slipped her arms in the sleeves of his jacket while he popped back inside and, when he eventually came back out, she took the hand he offered and they slipped away from the conference building, unnoticed.

They could have headed for her parents’ car but they chose to walk instead. The city’s layout was all different now and they often got lost for several minutes until they found a familiar landmark. It took them almost an hour to get back to the house and everyone had already arrived by then.

It was _chaos_ inside. Screams and shouts – Johanna, Plutarch, Tadius and Elindra, even though she couldn’t really tell who was arguing with who – Snowball’s angry barks, Aidan’s wails… It was utter madness and both Haymitch and Effie froze once the slightly fazed butler opened the door.

Lyssa was doing her best to usher the children in a different room but Finn was hiding his face against Annie’s legs, her nephews clearly wanted to see what the fuss was about, April was clutching her ragdoll to her chest with one hand and clinging to Lyssandra’s skirt with the other, clearly frightened, Aidan was in her sister’s arms and obviously upset with the whole thing.

Peeta and Katniss stood a little aside from the main scene, holding hands and watching…

And, in the middle of the entrance hall, Elindra Trinket was very much shouting in Plutarch Heavensbee’s face, barely held back by Tadius.

“ _Don’t you_ dare _try to blame my daughter!_ ” Effie’s mother screamed. “Don’t you dare! You put her in that position to begin with!”

Plutarch was clearly angry too, screaming about betrayal and friendship and who knew what else… 

Johanna was obviously pissed that nobody had ever seen fit to tell her the truth about the city bombing.

And Snowball was apparently taking personal offense at the former Gamemaker raising his voice on Elindra and, so, was protectively crouched low in front of the Capitol woman, growling and barking in turn.

Nobody even noticed their arrival.

At least until Haymitch let out a long and irritated whistle sound that made more than one person cover their ear. Effie, particularly, glared at him.

“How _unseemly_.” she huffed.

And she didn’t know if she was talking about the whistling or the scene.

“Quite.” the butler muttered under his breath. Then the man seemed to remember himself and cleared his throat before disappearing down a corridor.

“What the _fuck_?” Haymitch scowled.

“Language.” Effie, Lyssa and Elindra rebuked all at the same time.

“Oh, _down_ , Snowball.” Effie snapped when the dog kept on barking. And then she felt bad because he was only trying to protect his family. “Come here, my pretty baby. Come here…” Snowball darted over and stopped barking after a few seconds of petting. “Good dog.” Then she moved to the next urgent problem and quickly rushed to her sister’s side to relieve her of Aidan, gently wiping the fat tears off his cheeks with her thumb. “It is alright, my sweet jellyfish. Mama’s here now. Mama’s here.” She hummed a little, rocking him until the wailing turned to hiccups. “It must have been _really_ frightening to hear all those people scream. They did not mean to frighten you, sweetie.”

Haymitch had silently scooped April up and the girl immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face in the crook of his shoulder. Effie reached out to rub her back, growing really furious when she realized her daughter was trembling.

“I believe you overstayed your welcome now, Plutarch.” Elindra said calmly.

The Secretary of Communication had the good sense to look chastised. “I apologized, that was a very poor show of manners. Nevertheless…”

“ _Nevertheless_ , if you think you can insult my daughter under my roof, you will find I can be less pleasant than my wife.” Tadius thundered, his hand coming to rest at the small of Elindra’s back. “Now…”

“ _Insult_ her?” Haymitch growled. “What the hell is going on here? You’re not happy with what Effie said, you shouldn’t have tried to force her hand. _Fuck_ , you made so many corrections to her speech, you might as well have written her one. She was clear when she said she would do this: her words or nothing.” He sneered. “What’s the real problem here? Can’t face the truth? Or you’re scared Paylor’s gonna get rid of you once _everything_ comes out?”

“Operation Hummingbird was Coin’s decision alone as I have told you many times.” Plutarch hissed. 

But Haymitch knew better, Effie mused.

“It is done now.” she cut in, ignoring Lyssa’s puzzled questions. She hadn’t watched, Effie supposed, not with the children around. “How did Paylor do?”

“We will see in a couple of hours but for now I would say well.” Plutarch shrugged. His features were schooled but she could see he was still angry. “I _trusted_ you, Effie. I have been a loyal friend to your family and…”

“You’re a loyal friend when it benefits you.” Katniss interrupted him, her voice matter of fact rather than accusative. “It’s always been like that.”

“Now _that_ is unfair.” Plutarch replied and Effie thought the hurt was genuine. “I went above and beyond for a lot of you when it would have been easier for me to sit back. For _you_ particularly, Katniss. And for you too, Effie. I expected some sort of…”

“You expected that they would owe you and that you would eventually cash in on it one way or another.” Haymitch shrugged, jolting April a little.

“Now that is harsh.” Effie clucked her tongue.

“He called you a halfwit.” Elindra huffed.

“In the heat of anger.” Plutarch claimed defensively, lifting both hands in front of him. “And I should _not_ have. But you must understand that what you did…”

“Like she said. It’s done.” Haymitch snapped. “And can you honestly say it’s a bad thing?”

The former Head Gamemaker studied him and then let out a long breath. “ _This_ , right here, is why you would never have fitted in the political scene after Paylor’s election, Haymitch. _This_ , is why it was wiser for you to focus on Katniss rather than take a more active role in the government. For someone as talented as you are at tactics, you always put sentimentality over practicality.”

“How _dare_ you!” Elindra erupted again and this time she walked straight to the front door and opened it wide. “I will _not_ stand here and listen to you disparage my son-in-law under my own roof. He is twice the man you are, you insufferable _nitwit_! Out!”

Effie was so shocked, she was pretty sure her jaw was hanging open.

_So rude_ …

Lyssa was equally speechless.

“Very well.” Plutarch relented, a touch of irritation in his voice. “Believe it or not, I do not wish to fight with any of you. I will see you at the ball tonight. You should expect the cars around eight.”

Elindra actually slammed the door shut after him with a huff. When she turned around and faced the flabbergasted room, she huffed and puffed and huffed again. “ _Well_.”

“The _fuck’s_ a nitwit?” Haymitch asked, effectively breaking the tension.

Half of them laughed, the other half wandered to other rooms. Finn and her nephews ran away to play some game and so April demanded to be placed down so she could go after them…

Effie focused on Aidan who was still a little upset, asking him about his day in a soft voice, making up questions and answers alike because he wasn’t speaking yet…

And yet she didn’t miss Haymitch discreetly nodding at Elindra or her mother’s answering scoff.

Effie didn’t miss her mother briefly patting his arm on her way out of the room either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a looooong chapter! Please let me know your thoughts!


	75. 22 Months & 10 Months (4)

Haymitch heard the distinctive footsteps of his wife coming toward the living-room with something akin to relief. He usually liked Lyssandra and Leo well enough but having to be in the same room as Lyssa while she got over-excited about the ball at the Presidential Mansion was a little too much even for him. And that was without taking into consideration the fact that they had _both_ poured themselves a drink of Tadius’ best liquor.

And had offered _him_ one.

Which he had _obviously_ declined.

“Oh, Effie, _do_ hurry!” Lyssa squealed, barely glancing away from the huge TV. “Here they come!”

Effie walked into the room with less flair than usual. She had changed out of the green dress and into something a little more casual – well, if silk red pants and a white sweater with a sweetheart neckline could be considered _casual_ , but then again her sister was wearing an evening cocktail dress for what they had agreed would be a quick dinner so… Effie was exhausted, it was written all over her face, and he simply opened his arm when she sank on the couch next to him, not surprised when she immediately leaned against his side, company be damned.

Her blue eyes darted to the various bottles of alcohol on the coffee table and she pursed her lips. He rubbed her shoulder with his thumb, letting her know he was fine. Well… _Fine_ might be a big word for it but he was doing alright with the temptation.

“They’re sleeping?” he asked quietly while Lyssa exclaimed at the cars stopping next to the red carpet on TV.

He had offered to put the kids to bed but she had insisted on doing it herself, probably needing some family time after that dreadful day. The speech that morning had left her tired and it hadn’t gotten better in the afternoon. Her parents’ house had literally been besieged by the press. They had had an agreement with Plutarch about that but, to be fair, after what had happened and what Effie had revealed, none of them expected the former Gamemaker to keep his word. Haymitch had braved through the crowd at some point after noon, because Snowball needed a walk and because they would _never_ let go until someone had made some sort of official comment on their behalf.

It had been empty words, of course, because Effie had always been better at handling that sort of circus but it had given the press something to chew on for now. It didn’t mean they weren’t still camping in the street outside. It was the whole reason the curtains were drawn and the kids had had so much trouble falling asleep.

“I don’t think they will stay asleep all night.” she sighed in answer, placing the baby monitor on his lap.

“I _cannot_ believe you chose to stay here instead of going.” Lyssa commented. And, right on cue, Tadius and Elindra stepped out of the car that had been sent for _them_ , Haymitch’s invitation in hand.

The  next car would be the kids’, and the one after that Jo’s and Annie’s.

They couldn’t _all_ miss the ball without it being turned into a political message regarding Hummingbird Operation and Paylor’s involvement but they had decided that Effie’s absence could be put on the day’s conference and that Haymitch would simply stay behind with his wife as a good husband ought to do. That was their official stance on it.

The truth was Effie had begged out and Haymitch hadn’t wanted to go without her so they had offered their spot to her parents – if only to watch Elindra get flustered at the thought of going to a ball at the Presidential Mansion.

“I had enough excitement for the day.” Effie replied casually, smiling when Katniss and Peeta exited their own car. “Don’t they look dashing?”

They did.

Katniss was wearing an orange-red dress that vaguely reminded him of fire – the whole point, he figured – and her dark hair was up. Her burn scars were exposed but she didn’t seem to care. She never did. She looked radiant and the boy looked really good in his dark suit. They waved at the crowd, forced smiles…

Everything they didn’t have to do anymore.

The picture of two perfect victors.

“We shouldn’t have come back.” Haymitch said in a low voice.

Lyssa was too engrossed in the live feed to hear but Leo shot him an understanding look.

Effie simply leaned harder against him. An agreement, he knew.

A visit to her parents would have been fine. He truly thought they could have handled that but being in the spotlight again, playing roles they had all long shed…

“Are you still going to do the campaigning work for Paylor?” Leo asked.

Haymitch rubbed his face with his free hand. Nobody had been in touch about that. He had been happy to schedule a couple of interviews in support of Paylor because he truly believed she was the best candidate but now he wasn’t sure they wanted him anywhere near a camera in case he decided to follow Effie’s example and leak more state secrets.

“If they still want me too, I guess, yeah.” he shrugged.

“This is all my fault.” Effie shook her head. “I do not know what came over me. I am so…”

“Do not _dare_ say you are sorry.” Lyssa huffed. “They have been _lying_ to us for _years_. We have a right to the truth. _I_ am proud of you for what you did.”

Effie stared at her sister for a few seconds and then swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

“If you want my opinion, you did Paylor a favor.” Leo observed. “Her _transparency policy_ gave her a boost in the polls.”

“Smoke and screens.” Haymitch grumbled. “Always _fucking_ smoke and screens.”

“Politics.” Leo remarked in a fatalistic tone.

After a short debate between the two sisters, they agreed to have dinner in the living-room instead of moving to the big dining-room. Haymitch couldn’t help but smirk, watching them giggle to themselves because apparently having a relaxed dinner on the couch in front of the TV was a big _no-no_ in that house and Elindra would have had _a fit_ if she had known. It was good to see Effie relax and have some fun.

He had honestly thought that press conference would go worse than it had. He had been fully prepared for her to have a panic attack up there on the podium. Talking about what had happened to her, about the torture… It wasn’t easy when it was the only two of them so in a room full of people… All in all, she had handled it well. Blurting out state secrets wasn’t the worst that could have happened and he did see her point. They advocated truth but kept the secrets they wanted to keep.

Truth be told, he was _glad_ the truth was out.

Not only because there was some justice in that but because now people might stop calling Katniss insane for having murdered a war hero. Coin was _no_ hero. Thirteen’s candidate could deny all he wanted, call out Effie’s credibility into question and accuse Paylor of lying… It didn’t change the fact people had already decided what to believe.

And when all the former victors stood on one side of the equation…

Effie barely touched her plate and she ignored all his pointed looks about it. He kept his peace because she _did_ finish her chocolate mousse and as long as she was eating chocolate, she couldn’t be feeling _that_ bad.

They all grew a little quiet after dessert. They watched the live feed from the ball, trying to glimpse the kids and the Trinkets… Haymitch wasn’t really interested but Lyssa’s running commentary got a few snorts out of him. Effie was starting to doze off, he could feel her sliding a little down the couch, her head falling on his shoulder only to pop back up…

He was about to suggest they called it a night when he noticed Leo’s staring.

He liked Lyssandra’s fiancé but he didn’t like men staring at his wife with that sort of thoughtful look.

“What?” he challenged.

His tone was a little aggressive and the women both startled and looked at them both in turn, puzzled. Leo blinked as if he had been distracted and then shook his head.

“My apologies. I was simply thinking…” The Capitol winced. “I am sorry if it is a sensitive subject but… It is common knowledge your bank accounts were frozen and seized during the Purge…”

“It wasn’t exactly during the Purge.” Effie corrected. “It was well after Katniss’ trial. Well after Haymitch was gone. Peeta had already gone back to Twelve too.”

“So, _after_ you were officially pardoned?” Leo insisted.

Effie glanced at Haymitch who shrugged.

“Yeah.” he confirmed. “I got her pardon secured weeks before Snow’s execution. I bargained it against…” He hesitated. It wasn’t a time he liked to revisit. In the end he rolled his eyes. It was all done. In the past. “Coin was holding Effie over my head. She wanted her to be tried but it was just a way to control Katniss through me. I threatened her to tell everyone about Hummingbird Operation if she didn’t pardon Effie. She refused to cave but… It ain’t like she had a choice. Plutarch did the rest.” 

“I see…” Leo frowned. “And… Pardon me for asking but how much would you say your fortune amounted to, Effie?”

“Well…” She let her voice trail off and bit down on her bottom lip, probably trying to make calculations. “It wasn’t _just_ my bank accounts. They took my apartment and everything that was in it. It had been ransacked so there wasn’t much left of value inside. My jewels were gone but there were still some haute couture pieces and… All in all… I would say…” The amount she announced was such that Haymitch regretted taking a sip of water at that precise moment. He almost choked on it and coughed hard until she patted his back with a worried expression. “Are you alright, darling?”

“You never said it was _that_ much.” he croaked.

“It did not seem to matter. Suddenly I had debts everywhere.” she said defensively. “Bills that were scheduled to be paid, purchases, groceries…” She closed her eyes and waved a hand. “You remember how it was.”

He remembered because he had paid out almost all of it.

But at no point had he thought she had owned _that much money_. He had known she had been wealthy. _Of course,_ she had been wealthy. Escorts were rarely _poor_. But…

“Didn’t know you were _that_ loaded.” he admitted. Mostly because she was the spending kind.

“Life was expensive and I was not particularly careful.” she confessed. “But between my escort salary, the modeling jobs and the money I got for featuring in various magazines or TV shows… Besides, people often sent me free stuff in hope I would use it and do free advertisement for them. Dresses, shoes, furs, jewelry…”

“It adds to the estate.” Leo nodded. “And you did not try to protest when…”

“I was _not_ given a choice to protest.” she cut him off, wrapping her arms around herself. “They showed up at my apartment at dawn, handed me a piece of paper with the government’s seal and they kicked me out with one suitcase full of clothes they declared unsuitable for auctioning.” She licked her lips. “I tried to book into a hotel but my credit cards were blocked. I had some cash in my wallet they hadn’t thought to check… I tried to find a job but nobody in the Capitol would… I managed for a few weeks and then I had too many debts to deal with, I was so tired, I… I tried to come here and… Well, Mother said I wasn’t welcomed. At that point, I just… I just couldn’t do it anymore.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I left for Twelve.”

Haymitch covered her hand with his, brushing his thumb over her new ring. She flashed him a poor excuse of a smile.

“Oh, Effie…” Lyssa whispered, sounding genuinely hurt for her sister. Or maybe guilt because it was her fault her parents had kicked her out the door. 

“When was that?” Leo asked.

“A year after I came back with Katniss.” Haymitch answered. “I remember ‘cause I thought it was almost to the day. What’s with all the questions?”

“I’m sorry, professional quirk.” the Capitol apologized. “I was just wondering because… Based on what you said today at that conference and what you just told me… I do not see what legal grounds they had to seize your assets.”

“They called it compensation for my war crimes.” Effie said.

“You were pardoned for your war crimes.” Leo argued. “So unless it was made part of the agreement when they officially pardoned you…”

“No.” Haymitch shook his head. And then he frowned. “You’re saying…”

“I am saying that a few months after the war, Panem’s finances were at an all-time low and that they were desperate to get money anywhere they could find it.” Leo confirmed “They tried to do that to a few Capitol companies but we are talking about _empires_ here. They fought back. Some lost, of course, once their association with Snow was proven. That’s how I met Lyssa, actually. When the government turned on Tadius’ company. But in Effie’s case… It looks very straightforward to me. Didn’t you have a lawyer?”

“He died in the war.” Effie whispered. “Half my friends were dead and the other half wouldn’t associate with me. Father… Mother made it clear Father would not associate with me either so…”

Lyssa was upset, that was plain to see. Leo reached out to pat her leg but his attention was fully on Effie.

“You _have_ a lawyer now.” the Capitol declared. “And I truly believe if you take them to court, you can get your money back. Perhaps not the entire amount, understand. It might be difficult to prove you owned anything you do not have legal paperwork for but… What was on your back accounts and the value of your apartment… Those should be easy enough to trace back.”

“Take them to court?” she repeated, a little faint.

Haymitch made a face. “After this morning…”

“Precisely because of this morning.” Leo insisted. “They had no legal grounds and now that the opinion is favorable to Capitols… It would be the right time.”

“Hummingbird Operation was top secret.” he retorted. “If she takes them to court and they decide to retaliate…”

“They can’t legally retaliate about Effie disclosing that without painting themselves as hypocrites.” the lawyer declared. “Paylor stepped on that stage right after her and swore Effie had done it because she had given it her blessing _in the spirit of transparency.”_

“You think I can get my money back?” Effie cut in and she sounded… odd. A little distant.

Haymitch studied her, wary of a possible flashback or…

“Let me dig around.” Leo requested. “As your lawyer, I will demand to see the case they made. But honestly… Yes, I think we can get a good portion of it back.”

“It would be public though, wouldn’t it?” she insisted. “A trial?”

“If they want to go all the way there, yes. I believe it would be a big trial.” the Capitol man conceded. “If they based themselves on your alleged war crimes…”

“There was nothing _alleged_ to them.” Haymitch said quietly, not to be mean but because he had never lied to her on that front. “She _was_ an escort. She reaped the kids. She _willingly_ participated in the Games. She made money out of that.”

Effie’s jaw clenched but she didn’t protest.

“Yes.” Leo granted. “ _But_ she was _pardoned.”_

“Look, sweetheart…” he winced, squeezing Effie’s hand. “It’s your money so it’s your call but… You want my opinion, it’s not worth reopening that can of worms. They’re gonna play dirty and…”

“I agree.” Effie cut him off. “I do not want a public trial. I do not want…” She closed her eyes. “I am tired of my life being exposed like this. I just… I want to go home with my children.”

“I understand.” Leo offered. “Still… Given the current climate, even the threat of a possible case against the government… Look, let me poke around. Would that be alright? If I am right and they had no legal grounds… We might not even need to go to court, they might agree to settling this with an arrangement.”

“I don’t know…” Haymitch insisted. “I feel like we’re poking the bear and the bear’s a good friend.”

“A good friend who stole your wife’s money and would have made her live in the streets.” Lyssa objected.

“Yeah, well the bear wasn’t the only one responsible for _that_ , was he?” he snapped.

She had the good grace of lowering her gaze in shame.

“Please, don’t fight.” Effie begged, rubbing her forehead.

“It isn’t right.” Leo insisted. “They had no rights to…”

“But Haymitch is correct. I _am_ guilty.” Effie insisted. “Perhaps they had no legal rights but they did have the moral ones.” She shook her head and stood up. “My apologies but I am _awfully_ tired. Good night.”

“Think about it, at least.” Leo urged her. 

“I’m gonna head to bed too.” Haymitch declared. “Night.”

He followed Effie in silence, not commenting when she stopped in the nursery to check on the children. They were both sleeping. April was on her stomach, her blond hair wild around her head, and he adjusted the blankets so she wouldn’t be cold. Aidan was on his side, clutching his stuffed giraffe to his chest. And Snowball was sprawled on the rug at equal distance of the two beds and barely lifted his head when Haymitch scratched his belly.

He had a feeling Effie would have stayed there to watch them far much longer if he hadn’t placed a hand at the small of her back. She didn’t look at him when she left the room and headed straight to their bedroom. She didn’t look at him either when she sat heavily at the foot of the bed and took her head in her hands.

He sighed and dropped next to her.

“What _the fuck_ did I think I was doing today, Haymitch?” she whispered.

His lips twitched. “Language, sweetheart.”

She shot him a glare but it was tired and weak. With a sigh of her own, she started unpinning her hair from the weird braided hairdo Katniss had done it in.

“It could have gone _very_ badly.” she insisted, her voice rising in anger. “I was _stupid_. What if… People could have _rioted_. Isn’t that why it was kept secret in the first place? It was pure dumb luck it went as well as it did. It was… I could have started another war today and then where would _we_ be? We have peace and Panem is flourishing and here I go and almost wreck it all and just because…” She shook her head. “I could have wrecked it all and our children would have been in danger and…”

“Effie.” he said firmly, grabbing her shoulders.

She shrugged him off and stood up, pacing the length of the room back and forth again and again. Her hair wild and crumpled from having been pinned up all day.

“I am _stupid_. This city makes me _stupid_.” she ranted. “Plutarch was right. This was reckless and…”

“It was brave.” Haymitch argued, because he believed it.

Yes, it could have ended worse than it had but… Really, right then, the chance of another rebellion happening were slim. Snow’s loyalists had been eradicated. The only potential danger came from Thirteen and, after that little revelation, he supposed it was now safe to think this threat was gone as well.

“No, it was _not_!” she shouted. “I was supposed to tell them about _me_ , about… I _wanted_ to be able to tell them. I wanted to be _strong enough_ to…” She shook her head. “ _This_ was easier, do you understand? I made it all about dead children because it was _easier._ I used dead children again. It was not brave, it was the utter form of cowardice and I…”

The sob shook her whole frame and Haymitch bolted from the bed in a flash. He hugged her tight, not leaving her a choice to keep her pacing, coiling a hand around her nape.

“You _did_ tell them about you, sweetheart.” he reminded her.

“No.” she denied. “I…”

“Effie, you _did_.” he interrupted, drawing back to look at her. “You don’t remember?”

She stared back and, after a few seconds, she shook her head no. “I… I lost time. Everything is blurry in my mind. I…”

“You told them, sweetheart.” he promised, planting a kiss on her forehead. “And I’m _fucking_ proud of you, alright? _Yeah_ , talking about Hummingbird was reckless and, _yeah_ , it could have ended badly but… I’m _fucking_ proud, alright? I’ve wanted to do that for _ages_.”

She still looked a little uncertain but she allowed herself to relax. The tension slowly left her shoulders and she brushed a hesitant kiss against his lips. He answered to it eagerly, using the hand that was still around her nape to deepen it.

Her fingers were quick when it came to undoing the buttons of his shirt so he lost no time in slipping that sweater over her head. The kiss turned violent, her hands demanding, and the frenzy of the embrace got to his head.

He wasn’t really sure how they went from there to him pinning her against the wall but by the time he had her naked and her left leg wrapped around his waist, he had scratches all over his back from her nails. He bit down on her shoulder in retaliation and she hissed, coiling her fingers hard around him in warning. He groaned his defeat, licking the abused patch of skin in apology. It didn’t stop her from pumping him at a punishing rate, leaving him to knead her breasts and stroke her between the legs with jerky angry moves because this wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted her.

He wanted to be inside.

He wanted…

“ _Fuck_ _me_.”

The order whispered in his ear was all the permission he needed.

He batted her hand away and propped her leg higher, slipping into her in one powerful thrust that made her jerk her head back. It hit the wall with a thud. The angle wasn’t awesome but he didn’t want to try and lift her up completely. He was pretty sure his right knee would buckle. After a few thrusts he grew frustrated because she wasn’t getting off on it as much as he wanted her too and so he slipped out and turned her around without leaving her much of a choice. She braced herself against the wall and bent a little, offering herself up in an invitation he had never been able to resist.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulled a little so her back would arch and then he let himself grew wild, only spurred on by her whimpers and mewls of pleasure.

It had been a very long time since sex had been so… rough.

She cried out and, after a few more thrusts, he came too, resulting in the two of them collapsing on the floor, out of breath.

Haymitch felt… weird. He glanced at her, not really surprised to find her staring at the ceiling.

“You’re okay?” he asked when he saw her rub the shoulder that had been hurt during the war. It always hurt her if she strained it too much. She couldn’t play her violin too long, she never complained but he knew that carrying the kids around did a number to it, and the cold was by far the worst.

“Yes.” she answered, a second too late. She turned her head to look at him, a frown on her face. “This was…”

She let her sentence trail off. 

“So not _us_ anymore…” he finished.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed it but he had always been careful with her since her rescue. It wasn’t that they were all vanilla and strictly missionary either now but they were never… It was _never_ about power plays anymore, it was never about pinning the other to a wall or _fucking_ each other brainless…

It was always more…

_Loving_.

“Yes.” she whispered, closing her eyes. She didn’t voice what she was really thinking but he heard it anyway. _That_ had been the mentor and the escort. _That_ had been who they _used_ to be. _That_ had been… “Today was awful.”

“Oh, yeah.” he agreed. “Though your mother had her moments.”

“You are a mama boy.” she accused him with a snort, hauling herself up and outstretching a hand to help him to his feet. “Although I do admit it was a little fun to watch her chew Plutarch’s head off.”

“She defended you first.” he pointed out.

“I noticed.” she hummed. “Bed?”

He nodded but didn’t bother putting on pajamas before climbing between the sheets. He was only happy once he was spooning her, an arm wrapped tight around her waist.

“We don’t need the money.” he said. “Ain’t worth a public trial. They’re gonna drag you in the mud.”

She was silent for a long moment and then he heard her lick her lips. “What if Leo can get them to agree to an arrangement?”

He hesitated. He wasn’t in favor of that plan. At all. But… “Your money, your decision.”

“I could pay you back what I owe you.” she murmured.

“You don’t owe me _shit_.” he rebuked, irritated. “We’ve had that conversation how many times now?”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But still… Some of that money… Some of that money I won fair and square. It’s not tied to the Games. If we could get back at least a fragment of it…”

“You could open a shop.” He figured that it was what she had in mind since it was what she had been saving her dressmaking earnings for.

“It would help.” she agreed. “But, truly, what I was thinking was… I would open saving accounts for April and Aidan.”

“You father already did that.” he reminded her.

“There is _never_ enough money, Haymitch.” she countered. “What if they want to go to expensive schools? Or build a house when they settle down with someone? Or just… It could _help_ them.”

“There _is_ something like _too much_ money.” he argued. “What if they become spoiled brats? They get to access those accounts at eighteen. I don’t know about you but I wasn’t the most responsible guy at eighteen.”

“You have always been a responsible person.” she denied. “ _I_ was not. But I was also _never_ careless. I valued my independence.” She sighed. “I do see your point though. Then perhaps… Perhaps we keep the money on a different account until the children truly need it. We can judge if it is for a good thing or if it just youth.”

“You’ve already made the decision.” he lamented.

She didn’t answer. He didn’t really need her to though.

He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, nuzzling her hair a little, wishing they could just…

“I didn’t like where we left things with Plutarch.” Effie told him. “He has his flaws but he is right when he says he has always been a good friend and… I didn’t like how it played out.”

“Me neither.” he agreed.

“I do not like who I am in this city.” She covered the hand that was resting on her stomach, entwined their fingers.

“I don’t like who I am here either.” he snorted. “This place just makes me…”

“I know.” she hummed. “Can you believe I have been craving a cigarette ever since we landed? I swear I haven’t thought about cigarettes in months. Perhaps not even since I learned I was pregnant with April.”

“Oh, I can.” he chuckled. “If you knew just how badly I want a drink…” He shook his head. “Ain’t gonna happen though.”

“No.” she promised. “It won’t.”

“No way we can just cut this trip short and go home, right?” he pleaded.

She hesitated and her voice was apologetic when she answered. “My parents see the babies so rarely… They were really looking forward to spending time with them.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to punish Elindra and Tadius for their own problems. “Guess we better get in touch with Plutarch. Clear the air.”

She reached behind her and awkwardly wrapped her hand around his nape, turning her head so she could draw him down for a kiss. “What we _should_ do is get some sleep before…”

The baby monitor he had tossed on the bedside table crackled to life.

Aidan or April, it didn’t matter. Whoever it was would wake the other.

Haymitch groaned against her shoulder. “You or me?”

“Both of us.” she decided.

He didn’t dispute that. They were always stronger together anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Leo get the money back? Was Effie right to drop the City Bombing bombshell? Will they make up with Plutarch? Let me know your thoughts!


	76. 2 Years & 1 Year

“All pwetty.” April declared with obvious satisfaction.

Effie bit back her smile and kept toweling off the dog they had just bathed. Snowball wasn’t entirely happy with the treatment but he was used to being washed and he obediently sat there while she rubbed him dry, only flopping to the floor with something akin to a sigh when he saw her grab the purple hairbrush.

“Me too!” her daughter demanded and Effie wordlessly handed her a toy hairbrush that she enthusiastically ran through the dog’s fur in the very same spot.

They were sitting cross-legged on the bathroom’s floor, the dog lying between them on a couple of big towels…

Effie watched April while she brushed the dog’s fur, smiling at how big her daughter had grown. She was more a toddler than a baby now and it was… bittersweet. Aidan too was slowly leaving the baby phase behind and it felt a little odd not to be woken up every night by hungry cries.

The last two years and a half had been… Well, frankly, they had been _exhausting_.

But Effie wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

Once the dog’s fur was brushed to her satisfaction, she grabbed the hairdryer and finished the job, sometimes playfully directing the hot hair at her daughter just to see her laugh and squeal.

“Here you are, my pretty baby.” she cooed once she had put it down. “Isn’t it better?”

“All pwetty!” April insisted, wrapping her tiny arms around the dog’s neck and burying her face in his fur.

“Does he smell good?” Effie asked with a  smile.

“Uh, uh.” the girl nodded and then laughed when Snowball licked her cheek.

The dog soon ran away though, used to being pampered but never entirely happy with his fate. Effie was sure she would find him curled up in his bed, chewing on his monkey. April pouted at his hasty departure.

“Shall we go see what Papa and Aidan are up to?” she suggested, lifting her up. She propped her on her hip with the ease of habit and quickly rinsed the bathtub before tossing the damp towels in the hamper.

Haymitch and Aidan weren’t difficult to locate given the delighted squeals coming from the nursery.

“ _Chou-chou_!” Haymitch was making a big plastic red train roll around the nursery’s floor while Aidan laughed. The game apparently consisted in trying to make Aidan’s favorite stuffed giraffe hold on the train but gravity and the fact that the giraffe was far too big for the plastic train made it fall to the floor in seconds. Not that it seemed to disturb the boy. He simply tried again. Aidan was nothing but determined.

April struggled in her arms so she placed her down, smiling at Haymitch when he looked up at her, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Wanna join, sweetheart? You can be the sexy stewardess.”

April had already crawled closer to grab a yellow plastic car and make it roll around. Effie sat next to her and grabbed a stuffed bear, playfully making it attack both of their children in turn. Everyone was having a grand time but, she suspected, Haymitch was the one having the most fun. He loved playing with the kids.

“By the way, I forgot, there’s an envelope in the mail for you.” he said suddenly, after a few minutes. He wrinkled his nose. “From Leo’s office.”

“Oh.” she breathed out and, after a hasty kiss on Aidan’s head and another one on April’s, she stood up. “I should go check.”

He nodded, still a bit reserved on that subject.

Paylor had eventually won the election by a comfortable margin but their relationship with Plutarch – and by extension the President – was still frosty. The fact that Leo had gone poking around hadn’t helped but, as she had let herself been convinced by her now officially brother-in-law and her father, she was entitled to _some_ compensation. As Leo had theorized, the government had shied away from a big trial and had agreed to come to an agreement. It would remain secret – so much for Paylor’s transparency policy – and the exact amount that would be given back to her had still been in the air the last time she had talked to Leo. Given that he and Lyssa had gone on a honeymoon in Four, it had been a good month ago.

She pressed a kiss on Haymitch’s lips on her way out of the room, brushing her fingers against his cheek in an apologetic caress. She knew he didn’t like being at odds with Paylor and she knew he disapproved but… It was _her_ money, not all of it had come from the Games, and… The rebels hadn’t exactly treated her _right_ to begin with so…

She sauntered to the kitchen, rummaged through the mail piled on the dresser – and _cringed_ at the state the room was in because with two small children the house really wasn’t up to her standards anymore – and eventually located the thick manila envelope with her name on it.

There were quite a lot of documents inside, as well as a letter from Leo’s assistant and helpful pink post-it notes where she was supposed to sign. She felt the need to sit down when she realized this was _it_. It had taken months – and they had been lucky because a trial would have probably taken years – but it was over. She only had to sign and she would be given back a part of her estate.

She flicked through the pages until she found the amount in question and she bit down on her bottom lip, her heart racing in her chest.

It was barely half of the total value of what had been seized by the government and Leo’s fees would make a dent even with the family discount he had offered but… there was still enough left to be considered a small fortune. She could pay back Haymitch, put aside enough money that their children would never want for anything, and she could probably even open her shop if she so wanted.

It was… a lot to take in.

Haymitch had money and she had never wanted for anything while living with him but she still had felt poor, dependent on him, and now… Now she was free again. Not that she was ungrateful or that she wanted to leave but she was always been a very independent person and…

The noise of a heavy man and two unruly children coming down the stairs brought her back to the present and she grabbed a pen, diligently signing where the pink post-it notes deemed it necessary. She would have to go to the post office and send the papers back that afternoon.

April was swinging from Haymitch’s arm in a weird monkey game when he stepped in the room, Aidan more safely nestled in the crook of his arm. The boy was sucking on his thumb, the now worn out giraffe hugged close to his chest.

Haymitch’s grey eyes fell on the papers in front of her. “It’s done?”

“Yes.” she confirmed. “I know you do not like it..”

“Ain’t my money, ain’t my business.” he grumbled, placing both children down. “What do you want for lunch?” April immediately started prattling before getting distracted by Snowball who had ventured in the kitchen at the noise. Haymitch lifted Aidan high by his armpits and the boy laughed. “What about you, jellyfish? Any idea?”

Effie watched them, a smile on her face, not really surprised when all that came out of Aidan’s mouth was a string of gibberish. Haymitch acted as if he didn’t mind, blowing raspberries on the boy’s stomach before placing him down so he could go play with his sister and the dog.

She knew they shouldn’t _compare_ the children and god knew she loved them both the same way but… She couldn’t help but notice Aidan was growing much slower than April had been. He was nearing fifteen months now and he still hadn’t mastered any real word beside “no”. April had already been developing a vocabulary at that age. He was standing and walking but not really steadily yet and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was her fault, if because he had been born early…

“Don’t obsess.” Haymitch told her, squeezing her shoulder on his way to the fridge, as if he was reading her thoughts. “You know what Larcher said.”

The doctor insisted nothing was wrong with Aidan, that it was more a case of April being quicker than most rather than Aidan being slower. She felt terrible for even thinking it. But the boy was more fragile than his sister. He got sick more often, she was always scared he…

“I will take the children to Eileen’s this afternoon.” she hummed, changing the subject while he fished out a few things from the fridge and cupboards. She didn’t even attempt to offer her help. When it came to cooking, everything was better left into his expert hands.

“Told the boy I would help out at the bakery. The sink’s leaking again.” he answered.

“And he is asking _you_ for help?” she teased. “Hasn’t he learned from past experiences?”

He spared her a mild glare over his shoulder, his lips twitching. “We got it under control last time.”

“Yes. After flooding the kitchen.” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes but his mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’ve got so little faith in me, sweetheart.”

She chuckled and stood up, coming to stand behind him so she could wrap her arms around his waist. “I have all the faith in the world in you, Haymitch, but I am simply realistic when it comes to you and plumbing.”

“You never mind it when I take care of _your_ plumbing.” he taunted.

“Haymitch!” she gasped, tossing a quick glance at the children who were still playing with the dog. “Not in front of them.”

His chuckles were low and far more amused than they should have been. He abandoned the lunch preparation to turn around and embrace her properly. She didn’t try to resist when he kissed her, only responding harder when his hands wandered from the small of her back to her ass. He steered her backward, never taking his mouth off hers, pushing her against the kitchen table…

“Haymitch.” she protested against his lips because the babies were still right there. It came out in a needy moan, not quite what she had intended.

“I want you.” he mumbled, his mouth wandering away from hers to retrace the shape of her jaw. He made an obvious effort to control himself though. The kisses he planted on her skin weren’t pressing and his hands wisely came back on her waist.

When was the last time they had had sex? She tried to remember and drew a blank. More than a week. Perhaps more than two. The children may be sleeping through the night now but it didn’t mean they weren’t too exhausted to take advantage of it. Two babies required a lot of energy and, as much as she liked to pretend they were stronger than that, it _had_ taken an impact on their intimate relationship.

“Tonight?” she hummed, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. She knew exactly _which_ negligee she would put on. The red lacy one. The one he could never resist. “We should celebrate me being rich again. I cannot think of a better way.”

He snorted against her neck. “You’re gonna turn your nose up at me again, next thing you know. How rich are we talking anyway?”

She reached behind her until she found the papers and showed him the total amount.

He started coughing and almost choked when he snatched the page from her hand, his eyes comically wide. “You’re _fucking_ kidding me…”

“Do not swear in front of the children.” she berated automatically. “You knew how much Leo was aiming for…”

“But I didn’t think he would get it.” He made a face and put the paper back on the pile behind her, his hand coming to rest on her hip once more. “You ain’t gonna take off, yeah? ‘Cause half the reason you came here in the first place…”

“Are you _seriously_ asking me this?” she frowned, surprised by the insecurity in his voice. They were _married_ , they had _children_ , they were _certain_ of their respective feelings… She wasn’t sure what there was to be insecure about.

He was silent for a second and then he sighed. “No. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I just…”

“You are not a default choice.” she cut him off. “And if you think that for _one moment_ …”

“I don’t.” he snapped. “Let me finish, yeah? You’ve always got to cut everybody off, don’t you? Always know better than everyone else, yeah?”

She pouted, unsure as to how they had gotten from an heavy making-out session to arguing about such a silly subject. “Go on, then.”

“Too kind.” he scoffed but his lips twitched and soon she found her own lips stretching, answering his smirk with a grin of her own. She didn’t protest the knuckles he brushed down her cheek and she didn’t try to resist when he started kissing her again. “It’s one of my worst nightmares, you know.” he reluctantly muttered, his nose pressing against her cheekbone. Her arms were looped tight around his neck and his were wrapped around her waist. They were in their own bubble. “Being without you. You leaving or…”

“I will never leave.” she promised, turning her head to capture his bottom lip between her teeth. She pulled on it a little, careful not to hurt him. “Don’t you know this by now? I _need_ you. I _love_ you.”

“Right back at you, Princess.” he snorted.

That kiss was dirty in all the right way and she got lost in it. She _really_ did. So much so that when he abruptly pulled back she was left a little dizzy and very confused.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Nothing?” she frowned, fairly sure she hadn’t uttered a word.

But Haymitch’s attention wasn’t on her. In a matter of seconds, his arms fell from around her and he was picking up their son from the kitchen’s floor. Aidan, who hated it when his parents weren’t paying attention to him, brightened up, reaching for Haymitch’s face with his little hand.

“What did you say, jellyfish?” he pressed with open excitement. “Come on, say it again. Say it again, baby. Pa… Pa…”

Catching up to what was going on, Effie immediately starting stroking their son’s side. “Did you say your first word while Papa was distracting Mama, my darling? How mean of your papa…”

“Come on, Aidan.” Haymitch insisted. “You just did it, I know you can do it again. Pa… Pa…”

“Say it, darling.” Effie crooned softly. “Papa. _Pa_ …”

“Papa.” their son chirped and they grinned at each other before covering him with kisses and praises.

“Papa!” April demanded a little petulantly, tugging on her father’s pants. She didn’t have a jealous temper but she didn’t like being ignored.

Haymitch laughed and handed Aidan over so he could lift April up and cuddle her.

“I’m his first word.” he beamed.

“That you are.” she answered, pleased for him. She pressed kisses against her son’s shoulder. “Now we have to train you to say _mama_ , don’t we? Such a big boy, we have… Such a big boy…”

Haymitch could really be ridiculous sometimes.

How could she ever leave _any_ of this behind?

Not for all the money in the world.

No…

Not for anything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Effie has some of her money back and Aidan said his first word! Were you proud of the jellyfish? Do you think Haymitch will ever stop doubting happiness will be torn from his fingers (maybe he knows me XD). Let me know your thoughts!


	77. 3 Years & 2 Years

The window had been left cracked open that morning and, while Haymitch resented the draft of autumnal air, he couldn’t help but smirk a little at the joyful sounds of laughter that was coming from the backyard. Even if it wasn’t helping his headache.

He curled up on his side of their bed, wishing the room would stop spinning around him, wishing he didn’t feel that sluggish all the time lately… Wishing, also, that the recurrent abdominal pains left him the pretence of not knowing what was wrong with him.

For the most part, he had kept it from Effie, using the headache excuse more often than not. She was worried though. He saw it in every glance she tossed him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He had never been very good at fooling her.

She had been hinting he should go talk to Larcher quite a few times in the last couple of weeks.

He had pretended not to understand.

If pressed, he would claim he didn’t see the point of confirming a diagnostic he could make for himself. His liver was shot. It tended to happen after more than twenty years spent consuming hard liquor daily. The truth was… The truth was he was terrified _sick_ of what it would mean once someone actually uttered the words _liver failure._ It would start a countdown he wasn’t ready for.

Not when he could hear his children laughing outside his window, calling out for the ball they were playing with.

Not when Snowball was barking, probably trying to steal said ball away from them.

Not when Effie kept chiding the dog with too much amusement in her voice and laughed along with their babies.

April and Aidan were so little still. They were growing a little more each day, that much was true. April could babble for hours and, lately, she had taken to follow the words with her finger when he read her a story. He was clumsily trying to teach her a few letters and syllables. She picked up on things fast though so it wouldn’t surprise him if she knew how to read before she even made it to her first day of school. And Aidan… Aidan was quieter but something always tightened in Haymitch’s chest when the boy climbed on the couch and curled up against his side to cuddle.

“ _Don’t hit the ball so hard, April_.” Effie rebuked, a little more firmly. _“Your brother is smaller than you are. You don’t want to hurt him, sweetie.”_

That was her mom voice and it made him smile. She had come so far in the last four years…

Panic attacks were rare nowadays, flashbacks a thing of the past and the nightmares… Haymitch’s sleep had been troubled by worries about his health lately, about what it would mean, but they were otherwise both doing much better at handling night time. When they dreamt now, it wasn’t of death or torture. Her dressmaker business had become so popular she was now _finally_ looking at buildings in town where she could settle a shop…

She had insisted on being careful with her business, of making sure she would have customers instead of rushing ahead and opening a shop nobody would go to… She had also not wanted to spend the kids’ first years working herself to the floor. She wasn’t even entirely convinced she still wanted to do it now. She kept wavering between taking the next step and waiting until the children would both be going to school…

She didn’t want to miss a thing.

And, _oh_ , how he understood _that_ …

He supposed he should be grateful money would never be a problem.

Even if she hadn’t gotten back a good part of her fortune, between his own savings and the life insurance… He chased those thoughts away. He wasn’t going to think about it. Not now. Not ever if he could help it.

Enough wallowing.

“ _Snowball, what are you doing back there?”_ Effie suddenly snapped. _“Snowball!”_

Haymitch painfully pushed himself in a sitting position, gritting his teeth when their bedroom didn’t immediately came into focus. Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall or throw up, he got to his feet and started the long descent down the stairs, intending on joining his family outside. The kids would insist he tossed them the ball but he _could_ do it, he told himself. Play with them, make them laugh…

During the short time he was cut off the sound of their voices, the mood seemed to have changed though. April and Aidan were shrieking, Snowball was barking, Effie was fighting to keep the dog and the children away from…

Haymitch rushed over to the very end of the backyard where they were all gathered, giving a passing glance to the pen where the geese seemed particularly agitated. He snatched both kids up, one in each arm, and bit down on his tongue to fight the new wave of nausea when the movement woke the pain in his abdomen.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaving their children to dissolve into giggles at being treated like bags of flour.

Effie had grabbed Snowball’s collar with both hands and nodded at the pile of chopped wood he had been meaning to move for a couple of days now. Half of it needed to go into the shed and the other half needed to be stocked inside, next to the fireplace, for the upcoming winter. He didn’t really get what was going on at first because he had made a mess with that wood. There were logs scattered everywhere and it took his eyes a while to snap to where something was moving under a heap of them. The logs had formed a shelter of sort and, clearly, someone had thought it would be the perfect nest for their kittens if the little heads and tails he could now glimpse were any indication.

“The mother is _sleeping_.” Effie said meaningfully, letting go of Snowball’s collar long enough to point to a dark form lying still further down the logs. It proved to be a mistake because the dog overpowered her remaining hand and rushed to the kittens.

Effie gasped.

Haymitch immediately shouted at him to stop, a little too aware of what happened to rabbits not bigger than those kittens when he took the dog to the woods.

The children struggled to see what was going on…

If Haymitch hadn’t been so tired he might have stopped Snowball before he snatched one of the kittens in his jaws and disappeared back through the open back door.

“No!” Effie exclaimed, tears in her eyes. “Bad dog! _Very_ bad dog! Haymitch, _do something_!”

“And what do you want me to do?” he snapped.

But before he had even finished, Snowball was back – with a snout _mercilessly_ not covered in blood – and tried to grab another one of the kittens who were trying to flee by burrowing under the makeshift shelter. There were four of them, Haymitch counted. One black, two black and white, and the last one looked too muddy to tell.

Effie tried to shoo the dog away but Snowball was good when he wanted to be and Haymitch couldn’t risk putting the children down in case they saw something neither he and Effie wanted them to see so, in the end, the dog prevailed and the black kitten disappeared along with Snowball back into the house.

“Haymitch!” Effie insisted, her lips now wobbling at the thought of what the kittens were probably going through.

With a curse, he let go of April and Aidan, trying not to notice how enthusiastically they pounced on the _kitties_ because he was pretty sure now they would have troubles getting rid of the three little balls of fur, and turned around just in time to stop Snowball from snatching another one. He dragged the dog back into the house, whining and growling and slammed the door shut with his foot.

“Where did you put them?” he rebuked. “Show me. Come on. Get me the cats. You think your Mama’s gonna like finding a dead kitten on the couch? _Think again_. You did it now, boy. You’re gonna get exiled in the backyard for a while. Show me.”

Snowball looked distressed. He clawed the kitchen’s back door, whining…

“No, you’re not getting the other ones.” Haymitch spat. “They’re not _fucking_ rabbits for you to…” The sudden crippling pain caught his breath away and he grabbed the table. “ _Shit_.”

He tasted bile at the back of his throat and he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing.

After a minute or so, he was able to straighten up. Snowball had stopped trying to claw his way out and was now staring at him with his head tilted to the side.

“Yeah.” he told the dog. “Ain’t good.”

He shook his head and made his way to the living-room, hoping he wouldn’t find something too gruesome because he really wasn’t in the best mood for that. He fully expected dead cats. What he got instead was two kittens sniffing all over the dog’s bed, neither of them seemed hurt.

His eyebrows shot up. “So what? You think they’re weird puppies?”

Snowball sunk down next to his bed with a keening sound. One of the kittens, the one he had grabbed first and who looked white with some black spots, bravely inched over to investigate, cautiously sniffing Snowball’s nose before giving it a nice slap with its paw just to be sure it wasn’t dangerous. When all Snowball did was puff, the kitten seemed to grow in confidence and sniffed the dog higher, climbing his head like he was some sort of…

“We’re not keeping them.” Haymitch warned.

They couldn’t be much older than a month, a month and a half top. And they couldn’t have been around for long because the geese or the dog would have found them sooner – _and_ because the chopped wood hadn’t been sitting in the backyard for more than three days. Had the mother thought it would be a good place to hide them? Did she already know she was going to kick the bucket and had tried to find a safe spot for her kittens?

Slowly, he crouched and tried to pet the black one. That one seemed scared to death. Its tail was curled up under his stomach all the way up to its chin in a way that would have been funny if it hadn’t been trembling. The little thing let out a pitiful warning hiss when Haymitch brought his hand closer, growling low in its throat… He carefully rubbed a finger on the top of its head until the growling stopped.

_Stupid mother cat_.

How was he supposed to turn them into the cold now?

Snowball nudged his free hand with his head and Haymitch rolled his eyes, trying and failing not to smirk when he spotted the white and black kitten dangerously crawling down the dog’s spine, half hidden in his fur like a giant flee.

“You’ve always had a weird soft spot for babies.” he sighed, scooping the kitten from his back. “Alright. Fine. Go get the other ones, mother hen.”

He put the kitten back in the dog’s bed and went back outside, wincing when Effie yelped at the dog’s reappearance.

“Haymitch, no!” she snapped. “I haven’t managed to catch them yet…”

“It’s fine.” he dismissed, waving his hand. “He’s not harming them. Look.”

Effie uncertainly turned her head in time to see Snowball grab another kitten. He had sharp teeth but he did it delicately, like he would have carried puppies, and while the small cat protested, there was nothing he could do to escape.

“Get the kid inside. I’ll grab the other two.” he suggested.

Effie blinked, watched the way their children were looking at the remaining kittens with bright eyes and wrinkled her nose. “There are five of them.”

“Yeah.” he snorted.

“ _Five_ kittens, Haymitch.” she insisted.

“Tell that to the dog.” he mocked. “He’s nesting.”

“He’s a dog. Isn’t he supposed to hate cats?” she retorted, steering the children inside despite their protests that they wanted to stay with the _kitties_.

“He’s _your_ dog. He’s weird.” he shrugged.

She pursed her lips at him, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Snowball was far more successful at catching the cats than he was and by the time he had managed to snatch one, Snowball was already sauntering back to the house with the last one in his mouth. He found the children glued in front of the dog’s bed. April was petting a black and white one while Aidan was simply lying there with a delighted smile, letting two kittens climb on him.

“They are not shy.” Effie observed with a pout. “But _five_ , Haymitch.”

“Maybe we can find someone to take them in.” he suggested.

Buttercup wasn’t getting any younger. The kids might like another cat just in case.

“Oh, yes. _That’s_ happening.” she scoffed, pointing at their children who were already deciding who belonged who. April and Aidan weren’t bad at sharing but Haymitch and Effie had understood very early on that it went far more easily if they asserted clearly what belonged to who to begin with. They _had_ to share toys but knowing that the giraffe was Aidan’s alone and that the yellow toy car was April’s had solved a lot of disputes in the past. Because while they _lent_ the toy to their brother or sister, they knew it belonged to them and that they would eventually get it back. “Are they even… Can they survive without the mother?”

“Get them milk.” he suggested. “We’re gonna find out.” If they could feed themselves, they were good. If not… Well, if not they would have to find a very small bottle and try to feed them. “I’ll take care of the… _sleeping_ mother.”

Effie’s expression turned to worry very fast. She studied him attentively, her blue eyes darting from his face to the hand that was gripping the back of the couch.

“I am sure Peeta or Katniss would be willing to do it.” she countered. “You look tired. Perhaps…”

“I can still dig a _fucking_ hole.” he cut her off. “I’m _fine_.”

She was silent for almost a whole minute. Then she averted her eyes and her voice was strangely strangled when she muttered a “ _language_ ”.

He tried not to feel guilty about it.

He failed.

It took him far much longer to dig that hole than his pride could bear. The ground was hard and the shovel felt awkward in his hands. He was sweating heavily by the time he was satisfied with the depth and his stomach was aching. Well… Not his _stomach_ , he figured, but… 

“I’ll make sure your kids are taken care of.” he mumbled once he started shoveling dirt back in, feeling stupid for talking to a dead cat. “Effie’s a great mom.”

_Stupid,_ he told himself. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

It turned out that the kittens could all lap milk from a plate except for the black one who, as Effie pointed out, was skittish. The black ball of fur seemed to relax once Haymitch had scooped it up and settled it on his thigh on the couch. It took a lot of petting and low humming like when Aidan was sick in the middle of the night but, eventually, the kitten let himself be coaxed into eating.

The children meanwhile, had apparently decided on names, which was how they ended up with cats named _Apple_ – because it was Aidan’s favorite fruit; _Cleo_ – because it was the name of the heroin of April’s favorite cartoon; _Silk_ – with a lot of nudging from Effie; and _Patata_ – for reasons that remained mysterious and Aidan didn’t feel like explaining.

“What about this one?” Effie asked, carefully brushing her fingers along the length of the black kitten’s spine. The cat had curled up on Haymitch’s thigh and didn’t seem to want to move. It seemed wary of Snowball even though the other kittens appeared to have decided the dog was nothing but a weird-looking cat that was perfectly safe to be around and climb on.

“Looks like a piece of coal.” Haymitch snorted.

“He does.” she chuckled. “Coal, it is.”

“So much for not keeping them, sweetheart.” he teased. “Did you even _try_ to tell yourself you…” The coughing fit hit him like a freight train. It came from deep within his chest, left him nauseous, out of  breath and slightly dizzy and scared the black kitten away. It took a couple of minutes to pass and Effie’s hovering, her hand on his shoulder, was perhaps even worse. The kids, blissfully, didn’t seem to notice anything was weird, too enthralled with their new pets. “Sorry.”

“Haymitch.” she whispered. Her fingers were shaking where they were still gripping his shoulder.

“I’m just tired.” he scowled, avoiding her eyes. “Must have caught a cold, yeah? This weather… I’m gonna take another nap. Should do the trick.”

Her jaw clenched as if she was hitching to say something but she eventually forced a cheerful smile that was so fake it was painful to watch. “I will take the children and we will go walk Snowball. That should give you over an hour of peace.”

He usually walked the dog. He liked walking the dog.

But the thought of venturing in the woods right then… The truth was he was too tired.

“Okay.” He forced a smile of his own and covered her hand with his. His thumb caught on the ring he had gifted her with before that speech in the Capitol. The two feathers, the sapphire, the engraved dates of their children’s birthdays safely tucked against her skin…

The kiss she pressed on his lips wasn’t as light as it would otherwise have been.

Nothing was ever simple when you wanted to go out with two young toddlers though and it was more than half an hour before Effie had managed to bundle them in their coats, maneuver the new double stroller out of the hallway, grab a bag full of bottles of water, two pacifiers, the cat ragdoll and the stuffed giraffe, and was finally on her way out with the dog.

The house was blissfully silent after that.

Eventually, he felt a small weight on his chest and he opened his eyes to find the black little menace clawing at his sweater, purring loud.

He was asleep before the kitten.

He didn’t really mean to sleep for so long but, when he woke up, the sound of Peeta’s and Katniss’ voices were coming from the kitchen, teasing Effie both about her house now being an animal shelter and about whatever it was she was attempting to cook. The black kitten was exactly where he had last seen it, fast asleep on his chest, but now Snowball was lying on top of his legs – which probably explained why he couldn’t feel his left one – and the other cats seemed to have all curled up in the dog’s bed. While the Samoyed didn’t seem to mind giving the bed up overly much – and why would he when he spent his time on the couch anyway? – the purple monkey had been extracted from the kitten’s nest and was now safely resting against Haymitch’s toes.

He glanced at the window to find it was already dusk and he sighed, not quite happy about having wasted half the day.

Still, he remained lying there for a while longer, listening to the sounds of his family joking together in the kitchen. He didn’t feel so good. He hadn’t been feeling good in a while and he had gotten used to the sensation of not being at his best but _this_ … This was different. This was… _more_. He closed his eyes and licked his lips and tried to control the burning panic that wasn’t helping what could only be compared to heartburns. Except it wasn’t his stomach that was hurting. It was… It was a bit of everything.

He must have dozed off again because next thing he knew Effie was crouched next to the couch, nudging his shoulder with a cushion, ready to move back if he woke up a little too abruptly and decided to attack just because he perceived her as a threat. Her eyes were far too worried for his comfort.

“Dinner’s ready?” he guessed.

“I do not like your complexion.” she declared.

“Told you before, you’re never putting foundation on me again.” he deflected with a joke, nudging the dog off his legs and placing the kitten down on the couch.

“Haymitch…” she sighed.

“I’m hungry.” he lied, outstretching a hand to help her up. He couldn’t remember the last time he had really been eager about food. He had tried to cover his loss of appetite but he didn’t think he had done a good job. He really wasn’t good at lying to her. Luckily, he was better at lying to himself.

The kids stopped talking when he walked in the kitchen – not because they were talking about him, he figured, but because he must have looked as bad as he felt. He clasped Peeta’s shoulder, dropped a kiss on the top of Katniss’ head that sent her eyebrows shooting high, tickled Aidan’s tummy and then playfully shook April’s hand very seriously like she liked to do lately before sinking down on his own chair.

He asked Peeta how the plans for the bakery’s expansion were going and resolutely ignored the way their former tributes sought Effie’s gaze before engaging with him. Effie wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, she was pretending to fuss over Aidan.

The meal was terrible, like it always was when she cooked. The meat was charred, the vegetables were undercooked and the whole thing was dry and far too salty.

They all did a good job at acting like they didn’t notice but Effie pursed her lips all dinner long.

Afterwards, Peeta started on the dishes while Effie went upstairs to give the kids their bath. Haymitch wandered in the living-room, looking for the book he was sure he had left… _somewhere_. His brain had been less than up to par for the last couple of weeks. He forgot where he put stuff. He felt as sluggish as he had in the immediate aftermath of his withdrawals and that scared him more than anything. He was used to thinking quickly, he didn’t like how much time it took him to come up with the solutions for the crosswords lately.

_Symptoms_ , the voice of reason whispered at the back of his mind with some urgency.

He chased it away and gave up on the book to crouch next to the dog’s bed. From the couch, Snowball was watching the little devils that had nested in it. They were mewling, sharp and raw little cries that didn’t do his head any good. They had food still, so he settled for petting them until they calmed down a little. The white one with black spot wasn’t there, he noticed, and it took him a couple of minutes to finally spot him half hidden between Snowball’s paws. That one, it seemed, had decided the Samoyed was his new mommy.

That easy.

“Hey.” Katniss said softly, leaning against the living-room’s doorframe.

“Hey.” he answered in kind, focusing on Coal, who was suspiciously sniffing his hand, and refusing to look at her.

“You look like hell.” she told him, because you could always count on her not to disappoint.

“I’m fine.” he lied.

She scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

He sighed and carefully scooped the kitten in his palm, bringing him closer to his chest just to feel his purring better. That was soothing. “Look…” 

“You’re turning yellow.” she hissed.

It was like a slap in the face.

He knew his skin had an unhealthy tinge. He had been avoiding mirrors for that very reason. Self-denial was a powerful, _powerful_ thing.

“It’s the light.” he countered.

She scoffed again but it was strangled and he didn’t dare look up.

“We’re coming to say goodnight before we go to beddy-byes!” Effie cheerfully announced, coming down the stairs with a toddler in each arm. He wasn’t sure how long she would be able to keep doing that. They were both getting big and her shoulder ached when she carried heavy weight.

Like almost every night, there were a lot of effusions next. April and Aidan insisted on a proper cuddle with everyone – including the kitties – and it was almost fifteen minutes before Effie stop indulging them.

“I’ll get them to bed.” Haymitch offered, pressing a distracted kiss on her cheek on his way.

“Are you sure?” she frowned. “I don’t mind…”

“You’ve been taking care of them all day.” he shrugged. “Relax a little.”

He felt a little better now anyway.

He grabbed April from Katniss’ arms and nudged Aidan away from the kittens. That was the most difficult part, settling them both in April’s bed – because she now had a ‘big girl bed’ and not one with bars as she kept teasing her brother – was the easy one. The three of them snuggled close together on the narrow bed, with Haymitch in the middle propping a book up on his bent legs and the cat ragdoll and the stuffed giraffe tucked between his children and his sides. The purple elephant and the stuffed dog that looked like Snowball were at the foot of the bed for now but it wasn’t long before the real Snowball padded into the bedroom, hopped on the bed to the children’s delight and shifted until he could fit in the remaining space. His head ended up on Aidan’s feet, to the boy’s great pleasure.

Haymitch read them the story, taking pain to do the voices, smiling every time he got a reaction out of them. They quieted down eventually though and he thought they were about to fall asleep when April took her red glittery pacifier out of her mouth and tapped his chest lightly.

“You need to go to sleep now, sweetheart.” he whispered, hoping not to disturb Aidan’s slumber. It was a wasted effort though, the boy opened big sleepy eyes.

“Papa, we forgot the mama!” April told him, dismayed. “She’s sleeping outside…”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, not sure how to address _that_ but aware both his kids were now staring at him, awaiting his wisdom. So… He cleared his throat. “Sometimes… Sometimes people go to sleep forever, sweetheart. The mama can’t be with the kitties anymore but that’s alright, yeah? We’re gonna take good care of her babies.”

April’s eyebrows furrowed together but it was Aidan who popped his own pacifier out of his mouth. “Why?”

“Why.” he repeated. “Because… Because that’s how life works. Sometimes when people are very old or very sick… They have to go to sleep forever.”

“Like Sleeping Beauty?” April asked. “They need a prince to kiss them better?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Haymitch sighed.

“We go to sleep forever too?” Aidan whispered and he sounded so frightened… The implication was frightening. And for Haymitch, it was unbearable to even think about.

“ _No_.” he denied with enough strength that they both curled up tighter against him. “ _Never_.”

Well, someday but hopefully someday very far in the future, when they would be a hundred.

“But the kitties will miss their mama.” April insisted after a few seconds.

“Where’s your mama?” Aidan added.

“My mama…” he hesitated, taken aback by a question he hadn’t seen coming. “My mama went to sleep a long time ago.”

“You miss her?” April asked, apparently refusing to drop the _missing_ part of the argument.

“Sure.” he shrugged. “It’s okay to miss people when they go to sleep forever. It’s okay to be sad. _Hell_ , it’s normal to be sad… But… Don’t be sad forever, yeah? ‘Cause I… People who go to sleep forever, they don’t want you to be sad forever.”

Feeling himself choke up a little, he pressed a kiss on Aidan’s head and another on April’s blond curls.

“Why did she go to sleep?” His daughter bundled his shirt in her little fist. “She didn’t love you anymore?”

“Of course, she loved me.” he protested. “She didn’t want to leave me. Sometimes you don’t choose.”

“She loves you like you love we?” Aidan prompted.

“Us.” he corrected. “And… Yeah. She loved me and my brother like I love you and your sister.”

“How’s that?” April giggled, suddenly brightening up. “’Cause I love you up, up, up to the sky.”

“Me too! Me too!” Aidan laughed.

Haymitch chuckled, gathering both of them closer to him until they were half on his chest. “I love you more than that. There’s no word big enough.”

“To the moon?” April insisted.

“The sun!” Aidan added.

“The clouds!” she shrieked.

“ _I_ love you all a lot more than that but shouldn’t you be sleeping, my darlings?” Effie rebuked from the threshold, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Haymitch startled, not sure how long she had been there.

He was losing his touch.

“Uh oh.” April whispered, pressing both hands against her mouth like she always did when she did something warranting a lecture.

“ _Uh oh_ indeed.” Effie clucked her tongue but it was more amused than serious and she came to lie in bed with them. It took some shifting and the kid’s bed was definitely too small for so many people but they made it work. “Now, I want to hear the rest of the story.”

Haymitch dutifully started reading again until the children were both asleep. They remained lying there for a long time afterward, just enjoying the moment. Eventually, though, Haymitch felt his arms starting to go numb under the weight of the babies and he turned his head to look at Effie. She was absent-mindedly petting April’s hair, her eyes lost in the distance.

“I take Aidan to bed, you tuck April in?” he offered in a murmur.

Her gaze snapped up and she flashed him a forced fleeting smile.

They were so used to this by now that they worked effortlessly. He carried his son to his room, made sure he was comfortable and warm enough, arranged the giraffe so she was in easy reach and then pressed a last kiss on his forehead before passing Effie by in the corridor on his way back to April’s room. The same way she was now kissing Aidan’s goodnight, he kissed their daughter. It was their bedtime ritual, something they had started doing without even really noticing.

He was brushing his teeth when she walked into their bathroom, a frightened but determined look on her face, and he chose to act preemptively because he had a good idea of what she wanted to say. He rinsed his mouth and kissed her hard before she could utter more than “Haymitch, we really need to…”

He had been half certain she would insist on talking first but she gave into the kiss readily and even eagerly. Her hands hastily pushed his clothes out of the way, his own unsteady fingers found the fastening of her dress…

He wasn’t sure how they went to the heated kissing in the bathroom to lying naked on the bed but he slowed things down once they got there. Between her thighs, he took the time to kiss, lick and caress every part of her body, particularly the ones she hated. The scars, the stretch marks… He loved it all because they were who she was.

He loved the way they touched each other now. It certainly wasn’t the torrid nights of passion they used to share a decade earlier but he liked the sweetness of their embraces, the love they both put in every touch… It wasn’t kinky or rough or acrobatic anymore – although it certainly didn’t lack the desire that always burned bright between them – but it was genuine and enduring and _home_ in a way nothing else could be.

“I love you.” he whispered when he slowly entered her.

She arched her back, baring the column of her throat to his teeth.

She gasped it like a chant when he started moving. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

And there had never been anything as _true_ as this, he thought. She loved him. He loved her. It was infinite and terrifying and so right… So, _so_ right…

He slumped on her afterwards, more exhausted than his pride could bear.

Her fingers ran up and down his spine. She was silent but he could practically hear her thinking instead of basking in the afterglow like he wanted her to do. He slid a little to the side so his weight wasn’t crushing her but kept his face in her neck, his nose nuzzling until she finally let out the breath she had been holding.

“I want us to go see Doctor Larcher tomorrow.” she declared.

It wasn’t phrased as a question.

A part of him wanted to rebel at the ever-bossy tone, mostly because this should have been his decision. This should have been on his own terms.

“You already know what he’s gonna say.” he pointed out softly.

“I want to hear about our options.” she retorted in a voice that would bear no argument.

There was no _us_ and no _our_ in this particular fight but he held his tongue because he still didn’t want to discuss it, to _face_ it. He was content playing pretend.

“Princess…” he breathed against her collarbone, letting his lips trail along the familiar path down to her breast, relishing in the soft scratching noise of his stubble against her skin. “I don’t think there are any.”

He had always known it would end up like this for him. He had been ready for it – at least before Effie got pregnant.

“Well, I refuse to accept that.” she snapped.

He brushed his knuckles along the side of her neck.

“We’ll go see Larcher.” he surrendered.

Her smile was shaky but genuine. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that... Seems like the angst is back for one last sweep. Oopsie! Let me know your thoughts!


	78. 3 Years & 2 Years (2)

There was a paper cup full of lukewarm coffee clutched in Effie’s hand and a plastic stick meant to stir it forgotten between her fingers. She was leaning against the clinic corridor’s wall outside Haymitch’s hospital room and she was staring at the dark beverage without really seeing it.

They had been there for hours.

She had swallowed down her own instinctive fears related to hospitals all morning long, desperate to support him. Larcher hadn’t really needed them to tell him what was wrong, she supposed. The man had taken one look at Haymitch, had taken off his glasses to angrily wiped them clean on his sleeve, and had asked them _why_ they hadn’t come to him sooner.

Then he had asked about symptoms and tests had been run. Haymitch had been grumpy all along, uncooperative, downright aggressive with her and the medical staff…

And all the while, Effie had turned that question all around her head, studied it under every angle: why hadn’t they come to Doctor Larcher sooner?

It had been going on for _weeks_. Perhaps even longer – she wasn’t sure how long he had been trying to keep it from her. He hadn’t said anything, had pretended everything was fine, always had an excuse ready and she had wanted to believe it so she had simply… She hadn’t wanted to force his hand. She hadn’t wanted to confront the reality that…

She should have forced him into the clinic as soon as she had noticed. She shouldn’t have waited until his skin had turned so yellowish. She shouldn’t have waited until she woke up at night because he was in so much pain he was throwing up in the bathroom. She shouldn’t have waited until she had overheard him explain to their children why sometimes cats went to sleep and never woke up.

He had been saying goodbye.

He had been…

She had wanted to be furious, she still wanted to, but all she could feel deep down was _terrified_.

“Effie.” She looked up, startled to find Larcher standing right in front of her, a sympathetic look on his face.  The man studied her, gently pried the cold coffee cup from her fingers and tossed it in a nearby bin. Then, he placed his hand on her arm and she knew, she just _knew_ it wasn’t good. “I have the results.”

“It’s bad.” she said – because she needed to _say_ it. Haymitch wouldn’t let her say the words, he wouldn’t even _name_ what was going on. Sometimes she thought he was in deeper denial than _she_ was.

“Let’s go inside so I can talk to both of you at once.” the doctor suggested, pointing at the door with the corner of a thick file. Haymitch’s name was on the label.

She tried to swallow the lump stuck in her throat but it wouldn’t go down. She still forced a smile on her lips, jutted her chin in the air because… _Eyes bright, chin up, smile on._ That was what you did when… She didn’t remember anymore. She wasn’t _that_ _person_ anymore. She had lost the talent of hiding behind masks and pretences and…

Haymitch’s grey eyes darted to her as soon as she stepped inside. He was propped against the pillow, clad in one of those hospital gowns they both hated, sulking hard. She kept her smile on all the way to the chair and his gaze tracked her, seeing far more than she wanted him to.

She reached for his hand and he turned it so their palms could be pressed together.

Doctor Larcher looked grim. “The news aren’t good.” 

“No _shit_.” Haymitch snorted.

“You have…” the doctor continued.

“Cirrhosis.” Haymitch spat, almost sneering. “My liver’s fried. Yeah. I get the picture.”

She waited for the doctor to deny, to counter that it was something else, that… But when Larcher answered, it wasn’t to deny or counter or object. It was to _confirm_.

Effie’s ears were ringing.

She didn’t hear a lot of the technical explanations that came next. She didn’t think Haymitch was really listening either.

The beast had finally been named. _Cirrhosis_. A beast that would destroy everything they had so carefully – sometimes _painfully_ – built in the last four years. Almost six years of peace. It had been too short.

Larcher talked but his words were just noise. She couldn’t understand them. She couldn’t make sense of them. They were _noise_.

“How long?” Effie asked in a shaky voice when the noise finally stopped.

She almost wished it would continue to be noise because she wasn’t ready for the answer. She _knew_ she wasn’t ready for the answer. She desperately wanted Haymitch to squeeze her hand, to comfort her, but his fingers were limp between hers. He wasn’t even holding on to her anymore. She was the one doing the clinging.

“A few months.” Larcher said somberly. “At best.”

Haymitch nodded slowly. As if it made sense to him.

It didn’t make sense to _her_.

“What do we do?” she asked next. That was the next logical question.

“There are a few protocols we can try.” the doctor offered. “At this stage though… We can treat the pain, make you comfortable…”

“Making him comfortable sounds a lot like giving up.” she snapped. “What about a transplant? That _is_ the best way to cure him, isn’t it? A transplant?”

She had read about that. She had read about that long before the war even took place. The way he had been drinking back then… It had seemed inevitable that…

“Yes. A transplant could save Haymitch’s life.” Larcher nodded. “And we can add his name to the national waiting list but, Effie…”

“I’ve been an alcoholic for give or take twenty years…” Haymitch said slowly. 

“What you are is a _recovering_ alcoholic.” she countered but it wasn’t enough to make him stop talking.

He simply raised his voice. “I’m old and my chances ain’t good. I ain’t getting a liver any time soon, sweetheart.”

“ _Of course_ , you are getting a liver.” she hissed. “Do _not_ be preposterous. Didn’t you listen? Without a liver, you are going to _die_. And _that_ is not happening.”

She hated the way her voice broke or the tears that burned her eyes, she hated how she choked on that lump in her throat, she hated it _all_. But she also swallowed it all back because…

Haymitch was staring at her, frustration and anger and a little bit of fear battling on his face. Eventually he turned his head toward Larcher. “You mind giving us a minute?”

“No, of course.” Larcher immediately nodded. “Take your time.”

“Do not _dare_ step out of this room, doctor.” She snatched her hand out of Haymitch’s. “What we need right now is your medical expertise. Not time. As I understand it, time is now precious.”

“Effie.” Haymitch sighed, irritated.

It occurred to her, distantly, that he was the one dying and that she should have maybe been a little less difficult, more understanding. Although she didn’t really care about that at that moment, she was far too busy trying to save him when the two men in the room seemed to have already given up.

Hell, Haymitch had accepted it long before they even reached the clinic.

Wasn’t that what his whole little speech to the children had been about the previous night?

“The chance of Haymitch reaching the top of the list are slim, Effie.” Larcher said, not unkindly. “We would need a compatible donor and with his antecedents…”

“Fine.” she cut him off. “Then we buy him a new liver.”

It was absurd. _She_ was absurd.

She could hear herself being absurd, talking about buying livers as if it was as easy as buying a new dress.

“Effie.” Haymitch sighed again, more firmly.

“Kindly _shut up_ , Haymitch.” she growled. It was there now, the _fury_. Because it was unfair. It was _terribly_ unfair and she wouldn’t _stand_ for it. They had been through too much, she had fought too hard, she wasn’t going to lose him. And then it came to her. Like a revelation. How many times had she been forced to listen to Peeta and Haymitch debating the problem during the last few years, “What about the private clinics? They do that sort of things, don’t they? In the Capitol. They can fix _anything_.”

Larcher frowned a little. “They can’t fix _everything_ but they can certainly grow tailor-made organs out of your own DNA. If you have the financial means…”

“We do.” she immediately answered.

“That’s Mutt technology.” Haymitch protested.

“And so what?” she replied. “You were the one arguing that it saved lives when Peeta kept saying it was unfair it was only available to the wealthiest. Well. Congratulations. We _are_ wealthy.”

“That’s _Mutt_ technology.” he snarled. “I ain’t doing it.”

“Would it save him?” Effie asked Larcher, completely ignoring him. “Would it fix the problem?”

Larcher seemed torn between his duty to his patient and her determination. “It is not an exact science, there are still some risks of rejection with those transplants, but they _do_ have excellent results. The grafts are perfect. And… If you do have the means, yes, that would be my medical recommendation. It is certainly the best option for you.”

“Why ain’t you listening to me?” Haymitch shouted, kicking the blankets off his legs in anger. “I ain’t doing it. I ain’t letting them turn me into some sort of Mutt that…”

“We have four children, a dog, five kittens and I lost count of how many geese.” she cut him off coldly. “You _are_ doing this if I have to knock you out, strap you to a bed and operate on you myself.”

He glared at her, swung his legs off the bed and reached for his clothes. “I ain’t doing that!”

“ _Where_ do you think you are going?” she shouted right back.

“Home!” he sneered. “To take care of my kids while I still can!”

“I would prefer to keep you here a little longer, Haymitch.” Larcher interjected.

It went downhill very fast after that. Effie wasn’t even sure who shouted on who anymore, she lost track at some point. Larcher was trying to mediate, she thought, but it only earned him Haymitch’s ire and her annoyance.

Eventually, after twenty minutes and Haymitch failing to put on his pants twice because he was so angry he kept putting his foot in the wrong leg, they were out of the hospital and on their way back to the house – against Larcher’s advice. The doctor had promised to call that evening with a prescription though. And, she supposed, to handle his medical files transfer once she would have convinced him that her option was the best one. 

The walk back to the house was mostly a silent one if you excepted Haymitch’s loud puffing. He wouldn’t _pant_ , of course. He wouldn’t be _that_ obvious. Just like he had refused to be obvious with the small memory lapses and the dizziness and the nausea.

Every step made her heart thump with renewed anger because he had draped himself in a self-righteous silence he had no right to claim. Self-righteous silence should have been _hers_ right now. She wasn’t the one being unreasonable here.

Finally, the Village’s Gates appeared at the top of the slope and she refused to be silent any longer.

“The first thing I am doing when we get home is call my father.” she warned. “He will find the _best_ clinic and…”

“I don’t want to do this.” he snapped. He stopped walking, turned to her and, there it was again, the anger, the frustration, the fear… The _helplessness_.

If there was one thing Haymitch had always hated, it was being helpless.

“If there is _any_ chance of you surviving…” she insisted.

“We _knew_ it was coming.” he cut her off. “It was _always_ coming.”

“That was before.” she retorted, folding her arms in front of her chest, glaring at him.

“Before _what_?” he scoffed. “I ain’t doing the Mutt thing. I _ain’t_. I’m sorry you’re freaking out. I’m sorry this is happening. I’m sorry I’m…”

“ _Dying_?” she hissed in a nasty tone.

“Yeah. That.” he snorted bitterly. “You think I wouldn’t do it a different way if I could go back? If I’d known we had _this_ life waiting for us? If I’d known…” He shook his head. “Spent my whole life drinking myself into an early grave… Couldn’t know it would end like this, could I? With you. With the kids. It made it worth it. All of it. The bad. The worst. I wouldn’t changed a day if that means I end up here with you but, _yeah_ , I’d cut down on the drinking ‘cause…” He scoffed. “You think it doesn’t _crush me_? To think I won’t see them grow up? To think I won’t see Katniss and Peeta get married? To think you’re gonna have to _bury_ me?”

He stopped, apparently out of breath.

His grey eyes bore into hers with an intensity that was almost her undoing.

“I am not burying you.” she refused. “I am _not_. I _won’t_.”

“I am not doing the Mutt thing.” he stated, just as firmly. “I’ll do the treatments. I’ll do the waiting list. I won’t do the Mutt thing.”

“You promised me I wouldn’t have to do this alone.” she accused, slapping a hand on his chest. “You _promised_ me. When I was pregnant with April, you promised me we would be doing this _together_. And now you want to leave me with our two children?” She slapped him again, not even feeling guilty when pain flashed on his face. She wasn’t hitting that hard but his abdomen was tender. “They won’t even _remember_ you! They are _too young_ to remember you! You would leave me to handle everything? To tell them about the Games? About me? About you? No. _No_. We do this together or not at all. That’s what we said when we decided to keep her! That’s what…”

“You asked me to let you go.” he reminded her. “When you were pregnant with Aidan, you said…”

“ _Two_ _very different situations!”_ she snapped. “Is this payback then? Because I wanted you to put the life of our son before mine you are now punishing me by refusing a treatment that could save your life?”

“It’s a Mutt thing!” he spat. “How can you even…”

“ _Who_ _cares_!” she scowled. “Who _fucking_ cares! They do _miracles_!”

“ _I_ care!” he retorted. “Mutts have never been good. What if we do this and it doesn’t work ?  What if we waste the last few months we could have together?”

“What kind of months?” she snarled, lifting her arms wide to let them flop back against her side. “Months spent with the children and I watching you get weaker and weaker and then die? What a nice picture you paint. I won’t do it. I am telling you right now, _I won’t do it_. If you choose this, you are on your own because I won’t hold your hand while you are being such a _coward!”_

 _“_ Coward?” he repeated, disbelieving.

“ _Yes_.” she hissed. “Because it has nothing to do with the technology being derived from Mutt creation. You are _scared_. You are scared and you are hiding behind excuses and…” She shook her head. “You are _dying_.”

“Yeah, I know.” he scowled. “Kinda something that’s happening to _me_. Not that it’s not entertaining to watch you make it all about _you_. As usual.”

“But it isn’t.” she scoffed. “It isn’t something that is happening only to _you_. It is something that will also happen to me. To April. To Aidan. To Katniss and Peeta. Your death. That will happen to _us_. You should know better than anyone what it does to people to lose their family.” Tears were running freely down her cheeks now and she wiped them off with anger. “Either you come with me to the Capitol, you try the private clinics or… Or I just leave with the children. I am not watching you die.”

“Effie…” he sighed, reaching for her face.

She batted his hand away. “ _No_. I don’t need you to comfort me. I need you to… I need you to…”

“To what?” he asked.

“To be my victor!” she exclaimed. “To fight. To survive.” She shook her head, giving up on her half-hearted attempts to get rid of the tears. “ _Be_ _my victor_.” she begged. “Be the man who would do anything to survive… Be my… Be _my husband_!”

She turned around and hurried in the direction of the Gates, not even trying to fight the sobs that wrecked her. They shouldn’t have had that argument in the open. Anyone could have walked past and heard and she didn’t want the news in the press. Not yet.

She was walking too fast for him to catch up too. She reached the house well before him, pushed the dog aside when he tried to greet her and stepped over the kittens that had now acclimated to the house and treated it as if _they_ were the intruders on their territory.

“Mama!” April cried out in joy, running out the living-room like a little rocket to crash against her legs. Aidan wasn’t too far behind, sucking on a bottle of orange juice.

She patted her daughter’s head but tore herself from the arms wrapped around her legs and headed straight from the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

She didn’t collapse.

She _couldn’t_ collapse.

She was aware the children were crying in the corridor, not understanding why she wasn’t cuddling them like she always did when she got home.

She placed her palms flat on the kitchen counter and focused on her breathing. In and out. Nice and slow.

The first order of business was to call her father, to have him look into those clinics in the Capitol, to find the best one there was… Next she would need to call Leo because they would need a lot of money and that would mean a lot of calls to the bank she would only be too happy to let her brother-in-law handle. And after that… After that…

The kitchen door squeaked when it opened just enough to let someone sneak inside the room. She didn’t move, not even when Peeta placed a comforting hand on her back.

“How long?” the boy asked softly.

“A few months.” she answered. She had wanted her voice to be steady but it shook and broke instead. She closed her eyes. Focused on her breathing. In and out.

“What are the options?” he insisted.

“There is only one. A transplant.” she explained. “The private clinics in the city…” She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to go. He says… The Mutt technology…”

“Yeah. I can’t really blame him.” Peeta sighed.

Her head darted up and she glared at him. “Do not _dare_ take his side in this. He will get treatment _even_ if I have to _kill_ him first and you are _all_ going to help me convince him.”

The front door opened and closed. They heard the rumble of voices, Katniss and Haymitch and then the babies’ wailing stopped. It wasn’t long before the girl walked in the kitchen, clearly ill-at-ease and annoyed and perhaps a little bit sad. “Haymitch says he is taking the children upstairs to play.”

“It is nap time.” she argued, glancing at the clock. “You all ate lunch, yes?”

“Yeah.” Peeta cleared his throat. “You said not to wait so…”

“Yes. Yes. You did well.” she whispered, rubbing her forehead. “The children should really nap before…”

“Maybe he needs to play with them more than they need to nap.” the boy suggested. “It couldn’t have been easy news to hear.”

“Not good then?” Katniss asked, making an effort to look hard, to protect herself.

“Peeta will explain.” Effie said. “I… I am sorry to be so rude but…”

“We’ll give you some space.” Peeta immediately offered. “We’re home if you need us.”

“Thank you.” she breathed out, hugging him because he was right there and she needed the comfort.

Katniss hugged her too before leaving the house.

The silence, once she was alone in the kitchen, was suffocating. She wanted to thrash the place. She wanted to shove the baby high chair, stomp on it until nothing was left but broken pieces of wood and plastic. She wanted to tear the drawings and pictures off the fridge and rip them apart. She wanted to punch the walls and kick the chairs and maybe the table too.

She wanted her body to hurt like she was hurting inside.

She wanted to scream long and loud until there was no breath left in her lungs and she could simply pass out.

But she was a lady and she had been groomed to handle difficult situations with poise and grace so she did none of that. What she did instead was walk to the phone, pick up the handle and dial the number that had become so familiar those last few years.

She made it through the butler with barely a hint of emotion in her voice but when her mother picked up the phone and asked her if everything was alright because she usually called them every Thursday night and not in the middle of the day, she felt her countenance shatter again.

“Mother…” She tried not to turn into a sobbing mess. She _really_ did try.

 _“What in Panem is wrong, Euphemia?”_ Elindra panicked. “ _Is it one of the children?”_

“Haymitch…” she managed to blurt out. “I need… I need to speak to Daddy…”

How long had it been since she had last called her father _daddy_? She couldn’t even remember.

Elindra managed to get the whole story out of her while the butler located her father and dragged him to the phone. She also managed to calm her down a little. By the time she heard Tadius ask what on Earth was so urgent in the distance, her mother had already _promised_ her they would get everything sorted. She had _promised_ she would enquire _herself_ after the best specialists there were and that Effie shouldn’t worry about a thing.

A sentiment Tadius echoed wholeheartedly once he was made aware.

In that moment more than at any other perhaps, she was grateful to have found her parents again. Because they were both two forces of nature and when they promised something, they made it happen. If Elindra said she would find a doctor capable of fixing Haymitch’s liver, she believed her.

By the time she hung up, everything was arranged. All Effie had to do was pack everything and get them all to the city for an undetermined amount of time as soon as possible.

They couldn’t bring the dog, this time, she thought vaguely. But she supposed it would be best if Katniss and Peeta stayed in Twelve as well. Less media attention, one less crisis to manage…

Perhaps if she called Plutarch he would be willing to help but… They weren’t on the best terms yet.

At long last, she slowly went up the stairs, feeling like her body was made of lead. She had to step around Coal who was valiantly attempting the ascension but was having difficulties with the steps that were giant compared to him. She followed the laughter to Aidan’s room and watched them all, unobserved, on the threshold for a while.

They were playing with Patata, making her run after one of April’s rubber balls. They rolled the ball toward each other and laughed in delight when the kitten strutted after it, sometimes crouching low to attempt a jump. Haymitch was chuckling just as much as the babies but the way he was watching them…

 _Yearning_.

That was what it was. Yearning to do that every day. Yearning to be there for them for the rest of their lives. Yearning to watch them grow up. Yearning to stay alive.

Snowball bumped against her leg and she mindlessly scratched his head but the dog’s apparition had attracted more attention than she had and she was spotted now.

“Mama!” the children cried at once and hurried to her again. She crouched and hugged them both this time, closing her eyes to smell them in, unable to understand why he wouldn’t try _everything_ to stay with them because there was nothing, _nothing_ she wouldn’t have done for her babies.

At long last, she pressed a kiss on each head and drew back, a faked severe expression on her face. “I believe it is _high time_ for a nap.”

“But we’re playing with Patata!” April protested.

“Patata!” Aidan laughed, delighted by the name he had chosen for the kitten. The laugh turned into a yawn though.

“Mama’s right, sweetheart.” Haymitch cut in, getting back to his feet with some difficulties. “It’s nap time.”

“Take April. I will take care of Aidan.” she half-commanded and half-offered, not meeting his eyes.

He didn’t answer but he lifted the girl up and left the room. Snowball seemed to hesitate and then padded after him, leaving her with a sleepy little boy and an equally exhausted kitten. It didn’t take long at all for Aidan to fall asleep and she scooped the cat on her way out, thinking it would be more comfortable downstairs with the rest of the litter. She would have rescued Coal from the stairs as well – because he had apparently given up halfway through and was now pitifully mewling for help – but Snowball got there first, probably alerted by the sound. He delicately grabbed the kitty by the loose skin of his neck and sauntered back toward April’s room.

She let it go.

She should have started packing but she flopped down on the couch instead, watching the kittens they were so obviously keeping settle in a big heap of sleeping cats. They would need to buy them a bed, they had colonized Snowball’s. The dog didn’t seem to mind overly much, he had simply relocated the purple monkey to a safe place behind the armchair but…

The sound of his claws echoed down the stairs and, soon, Snowball hopped on the couch and curled up next to her, his head on her lap. She petted him out of reflex, letting out a soft sigh when he whined, always so attuned to her feelings he probably felt her distress.

It wasn’t long after that before Haymitch appeared. He carefully placed Coal down amongst the sleeping kittens and eventually, after a minute or two, he turned to face her. “Can we talk? Without fighting.”

“I don’t know.” she deadpanned. “ _Can_ we?”

They had never really been good at that. Not fighting. They _had_ gotten better at it those last few years but…

“I’m freaking out.” he said and it was such a big admission coming from him that she looked up, her eyes shining with tears again. “You know what’s been in my head all day? I could have a drink. What does it matter now? Wouldn’t make a difference. I’m already dying. I could have a drink. Almost four years sober and that’s still my first instinct when I’m upset.”

“You won’t drink.” she said confidently. Because he never had before, even when things had been bad during her second pregnancy.

“No, I won’t.” he shrugged. “Just… _Fucking_ ironic, yeah?”

“I suppose.” she whispered. “For what it’s worth, I am freaking out too.”

“Yeah.” he snorted. “You weren’t being really subtle with it.” He slowly walked to the other side of the L-shaped couch and sat down. Close enough that he could reach for her but with enough space that they could still face each other. The dog was in the middle anyway. “I want to see them grow up and I don’t want to leave you… _Fuck_ , sweetheart, you _have_ to know if I could…”

“You _can_.” she cut him off.

“Yeah.” he sighed. “Maybe.” He looked down at his knees and swallowed hard. “The Mutt thing… The Mutt thing also freaks me out. It ain’t… It ain’t natural.”

“Who cares if it saves your life?” she scoffed and then she licked her lips because they had said they would try _not_ to fight. “You shouldn’t think of it as a… a _Mutt_ thing. Yes, the technology has been developed thanks to that sort of experiments but… Haymitch, you should simply think of it as a medical treatment. It does _miracles_. Mother says her friend Clia had a heart transplant at one of those clinics last year and that she is fit as a fiddle now. The organs they grow are perfect, made for you, it is better than any other transplant you could have on the national waiting list.”

He studied her for a very long time. “What if it doesn’t work and we waste the time we could have had?”

“What if it _does_ work and you get the rest of your life?” she countered. “What if we can grow old together? What if you can see your children’s first day of school? What if you can see them rebel when they reach puberty? What if…”

“Yeah.” he cut her off. “I get it.”

“ _Do you_?” she insisted. “My parents are looking into it as we speak. They will find the best specialists and they will find the best clinic. Please, _please_ , say yes. We have to _try_. We can’t just…” She shook her head. They couldn’t just _give_ _up_. “This isn’t how it ends, Haymitch. It ends forty or fifty years from now, when we are very _very_ old and our children are all very happy.” She outstretched her hand, her other fingers buried deep in Snowball’s fur. “Please.”

He took it without an hesitation and their hands hung between. He stared at them.

“Let’s say I’m willing…” he said slowly. “The money…”

“We _have_ the money.” she dismissed. “We have _my_ money. I owe you some anyway…”

“Not that much.” he snorted. “And that was supposed to go in an account for the kids. You were supposed to buy a shop…”

“Do you _honestly_ think I want a shop more than I want you?” She almost laughed at how ridiculous a notion it was.

He smirked, his eyes softening with fondness. “I love you. Should probably say it more often. Just in case.”

“I love you too…” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “Which is why we are doing this. Everything will be fine. Everything _has_ to be fine.”

“I’m still not sure we have the means.” he argued. He wasn’t trying to dissuade her though, his tone was practical and so she didn’t get angry again. “Even with all your really _stupid_ amount of money… Those clinics, they’re _pretty_ expensive, sweetheart. I’m guessing it won’t be a short stay either…”

“My parents will help us if needed.” she promised. “We _have_ to do this. We have to _try_.” He nudged the dog until Snowball crawled forward. He was heavy on her lap but he left enough space next to her that Haymitch could move closer. She had expected the kissing to be desperate but it was soft instead. She brushed the tip of her fingers against his cheek. “You should probably get some rest and I should start packing.”

She didn’t move though and they kept exchanging tender kisses.

“One thing’s for sure, Princess…” he murmured against her lips. “If I have to die in the Capitol because of a Mutt thing, I’m gonna be pissed.”

It was meant as a joke but she wasn’t amused.

“You are _not_ going to die.” she swore. “I would fall apart without you.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” he smirked fondly. “You’re stronger than I am.”

She wasn’t.

But she didn’t protest. Sometimes, she thought he and the children _really_ needed to believe that particular lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going back to the city! Did you enjoy this chapter? Please let me know your thoughts!


	79. 3 Years & 2 Years (3)

Haymitch had come to hate his hospital room with a passion and he had a newfound admiration for Effie given the months she had spent stuck in a smaller one. They had been in the city for three weeks now and for two of them he had been trapped in that hospital bed, forced to wear pajamas all day while his replacement liver grew and to stare at the children’s drawings his wife had tapped to the walls.

It wasn’t a bad room as far as hospitals went but it was, maybe, even worse because it reminded him a lot of the Games Clinic. The clinic was destined to wealthy patients and it showed. There was a huge flat screen TV facing the bed, blue curtains on the windows, a comfortable couch in the corner and the staff was dedicated to make his stay the best experience possible. The nurses were nice, he could admit that. He just hated being vulnerable and helpless under their care.

He was still unconvinced this was the right thing to do but, as Effie had pointed out numerous times, it was the only viable option they had.

He would give that to Elindra, when she did something, she didn’t do it in half.

They had barely set one foot inside the Trinkets’ house three weeks earlier that she had whisked them out again so he could meet his new doctor who, as it turned out, was Panem’s specialist when it came to liver troubles. Haymitch would have preferred to go on with Larcher but the professor wasn’t too bad – he couldn’t afford to be given how much the clinic was coasting them – he had answered Haymitch’s and Effie’s questions and had put most of his fears about mutt technology to rest. This was routine to him, he had said.

It was routine to everyone in that place except to him and his family.

He had spent their first week in the city with his kids. There was a lot of press attention but that was inevitable and it had eased a little after the first couple of days – thanks, he was sure, to Plutarch. He hadn’t let that stop him and he had taken the kids out to the fair and the park and every place in the Capitol he could bear to go.

He had been adamant he didn’t want the children in the clinic, not even for a visit. Effie had tried to change his mind but had eventually relented, aware that he didn’t want them to see him stuck to a bed, his health deteriorating with every new day. They had had a perfect week – or as close to perfect as it would get – and he wanted them to keep that image of him.

It didn’t mean they didn’t ask after him and cried for him every day – that, he knew from Elindra since Effie wouldn’t tell him to spare his feelings. .

Effie wasn’t faring very well either but she was always steadfast when it came to times of crisis and she dealt with it the only way she knew: with schedules, lists and an over-the-top cheerfulness.

Katniss and Peeta were doing their best to sound unworried too. They called ever night, like clockwork, to tell him about what had happened in Twelve that day – little, as it always turned out – and update him on the geese and Snowball and the kittens. They were terrified and anxious for the whole thing to be over and nothing told him that like the last phone call the night before the transplant surgery was scheduled.

_“I love you.”_ Katniss said quickly, her voice strangely strangled. “ _Please, don’t die.”_

She handed the phone back to Peeta before he could answer and he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was stuck there. “Take care of her, yeah?”

_“Always.”_ Peeta promised with far too much solemnity. _“I’ll talk to you soon.”_

“Sure thing.” He forced a smirk but his tone wasn’t as detached as he would have liked. “And, boy…”

_“No goodbyes, Haymitch.”_ the kid refused. _“I’ll talk to you soon.”_

He had thought that phone call would be the hardest, he should have known better. Because nothing was worse than the procession of Trinkets standing at the foot of his bed the next morning and the glances they kept throwing at the clock.

The clock, he knew from experience, wouldn’t stop ticking and, too soon, the nurses would come and take him away so the professor could cut him open and replace his busted liver with a brand new one.

Effie wouldn’t stop fretting.

She kept fixing the blankets to make sure he was warm enough, kept trying to pat his pillows, kept fiddling with her butterfly necklace…

Half an hour before the nurses were supposed to come fetch him, he cleared his throat. “You mind giving me and Tadius a moment?”

Effie frowned but Elindra’s sharp gaze darted between him and her daughter with a keen understanding of what he might want to discuss with his father-in-law.

“Of course not!” the Capitol exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm, nudging Effie toward the door. She briefly paused to awkwardly pat Haymitch’s hand on their way out. “Everything will be _perfectly_ fine, you will see. Professor Torton is _the_ very best and if he fails to fix you we will sue him for everything he is worth. It should be enough incentive for him to save you.”

“Mother!” Effie hissed.

Haymitch chuckled. He wasn’t sure if she had meant to comfort him with that but Elindra would never completely change and he had grown somewhat fond of her Capitol quirks. Even more so because he suspected she was only saying those insensitive things to distract Effie. He squeezed her hand before she managed to usher his wife out of the room and the look they shared was self-explanatory.

They would never really understand each other but they were family now, for better or for worse. Hell, he had even learned not to mind calling her Mother in the last couple of years. Well… Not too much, at least.

“I know what you might wish to ask me…” Tadius said as soon as the door had closed behind the two Capitols. “… and you do not need to worry, Haymitch.”

“If the worst happens…” he insisted – because he _had_ to think about it.

If he died on the table, Effie would find herself with enough money to leave comfortably with her dressmaking business but not much more. Almost all their savings had gone into this…

And her family had let her down once already.

“If the worst happens, Effie and the children will be taken care of.” his father-in-law promised, awkwardly patting his leg over the blanket.

“It’s not only them I’m worried about.” he sighed. “Katniss and Peeta…”

“Are just as much Effie’s children as April and Aidan. Elindra and I accepted that years ago.” Tadius cut him off. “We won’t leave them to fend for themselves either.”

He nodded, a little relieved to hear it. “I have a will. And the house’s deed is in the study. You know… In case Effie needs it.” He licked his lips and averted his eyes. “If I kick the bucket… I’m sure they’re gonna want to make a spectacle of the funerals… Don’t let them, alright? I want something simple in Twelve. Just family.” 

Tadius cleared his throat, obviously ill-at-ease. “I am certain Effie already knows…”

“She does but if I don’t make it…” He shook his head. “She’s strong. She’s gonna bounce back but she’s gonna need help to do stuff. I don’t want her… I don’t…”

He let that sentence trail off. The simple thought of losing Effie was crushing. He had spent too many months dreading it when she was pregnant with Aidan. He knew exactly how _he_ would have felt if he had lost her, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to function for a long time – _if_ ever again – and Effie loved him just as much as he loved her. He couldn’t imagine any scenario in which she didn’t fall apart if she were to lose him.

“I will take care of her, Haymitch.” the man promised again. “I will take care of them.”

“Not just with money, yeah?” he requested. “’Cause the kids… They’re gonna have Peeta but he’s a boy still. You’re gonna need to step up, Tadius.”

The man stared at him, his face a blank mask of resolve. “I know you are scared but everything will be alright. This is routine to those people. I promised Effie _the best_ and I _found_ the best. They will fix you up and you will be back home in a tic.”

Haymitch hoped he was right, he _dearly_ hoped it. But luck hadn’t always been on his side and he would rather be safe than sorry.

“I’m glad I got to know you.” he offered with a smirk. “Won’t lie, I think you were an asshole to Effie for most of her life but you’ve really improved with age.”

Tadius seemed torn between being offended and amused. In the end, amusement won and he flashed Haymitch a rare smile. “Do not tell Leo but you are my favorite son-in-law. Now… I will see you after your surgery. I will send Effie in, shall I?”

He nodded his assent and forced himself to get a grip. He needed to be strong for her because he would be damned if the last image she would keep of him was him being scared to death of his own end.

He saw straight through the brave face and the blinding smile she was wearing when she stepped inside, closing the door behind her as if she wanted to shut the world out. That was her escort’s face, a face he hadn’t seen in a very long time. One he had hoped to never see again.

“It won’t be long now.” she hummed, as if they were talking about an appointment at the coffee shop with the Clarkes instead of a life altering surgery.

He slipped his wedding band off his finger, not quite surprised when it came off without much difficulties. He had lost some weight. “You keep that safe for me, yeah?”

She took it from him and stared at it for a few seconds before slipping it on her thumb. “I will give it back to you tonight.”

“You do that.” he smirked, holding out his hand, palm up. She took it with an even more forced smile. He squeezed her fingers. “There’s no use to you sticking around the clinic all day. Go home and play with the kids, okay?”

She shook her head. “I am staying. Lyssa is taking all the children to Capitol Park.”

He scowled but didn’t insist. She could out-stubborn him any day.

“Look… I know you don’t want to hear it, sweetheart…” he hesitated.

“There won’t be _any_ sort of goodbyes.” she warned. “I refuse to hear it. Everything will be _fine_.”

Her optimism had always irritated him and, while today was no exception, he made an effort not to let it show. “Just in case. I wrote letters… To the kids. For when they’re older. They’re in the drawer.” He nodded to the nightstand. “And…”

“ _No_ , Haymitch.” she cut him off, her mask of cheerfulness melting away. “Please, do not _do_ this to me. We will die when we are _extremely_ old and not before. We will have a whole full life together.”

“Just tell the kids I love them.” he insisted. “Make sure they know.”

“They do know.” she whispered. “We _all_ know.” She jutted her chin higher in the air and blinked away the tears. “Which is why you are going to survive this. You better give me your token. I do not think they will allow you to wear it in the operating room.”

His eyes darted to the golden bangle around his wrist. It was strange how he was sometimes aware of his wedding band but had gotten so used to the bangle that he had stopped noticing it altogether. He had completely forgotten he was even wearing it. It was stranger still to let her take it off and to watch it bounce around her own wrist once she had put it on.

The knock on the door came too soon.

When the nurses walked in, there was still a thousand things he wanted to tell her.

“I love you.” he murmured.

It summed it all up, after all, didn’t it?

“I love you too.” she whispered, leaning down to press a desperate kiss to his lips.

She held his hand all the way to the door and then was forced to let go. The last image he had of her was her face crumbling into deep worry. He caught a glimpse of her parents’ faces as the gurney was rolled past them, he answered Elindra’s fake encouraging smile with a wink and then he closed his eyes and tried not to panic too much. He hated being helpless, he hated the thought that he would be out for the count while someone rummaged inside his body, but he was pretty sure he would hate being dead even more.

It was all very anticlimactic. They rolled him in an operation room, prepared him for surgery and eventually hooked him up to _something_. He was asked to count down from one hundred, started getting dizzy after ninety-five and went under at ninety.

He had time to think that if that was how it ended, it wasn’t so bad. Painless, at least.

Pain came after.

Although he wouldn’t have been able to say _how long_ after.

His eyelids fluttered opened but everything was blurry, voices were distorted and he didn’t fight to stay awake.

The next time he opened his eyes, everything was still blurry but he recognized Effie’s face towering over him. She was talking and crying but the words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t understand them. He tried to reach for her face but couldn’t lift his arm. He fell back asleep.

At last, he awoke to a clear world, with the beeping of machines in his ears and far less dizzy than previously. His body hurt, his stomach particularly, but the pain was dulled in a way that indicated the use of painkillers. He blinked a few times, moved his hand…

His fingers bumped against something soft that turned out to be Effie’s hair. She was slumped on a chair next to his bed, her upper body on the mattress, her head on her folded arms, sound asleep. He had to do a huge effort to brush the blond strands away from her face. She didn’t stir. He tried to call her name but all that came out of his mouth was a groan.

Dread gripped his guts. What if something had gone wrong and he was diminished now? The beeping to his left quickened and someone soon entered his line of sight.

Elindra must have been standing next to the window because he hadn’t seen her before.

“There you are.” she said in her usual brisk tone. She kept her voice low though and the glance she tossed Effie told him she didn’t want to disturb her daughter’s rest. “Sleeping for two days. Truly, Haymitch. You had us worried _sick_.” He tried to speak again, grunted something unintelligible and then licked his lips when he realized his mouth was parched. Elindra must have understood the problem because she hurriedly grabbed a plastic glass from the bedside table and guided the straw to his mouth. “Now, do not tell anyone I did this. It will not do to have them think I would do a good nurse.”

He chuckled but immediately winced when the pain flared in his torso. Was it supposed to hurt that much?

“How…” he tried, almost relieved to find he _could_ form words when he wasn’t parched.

“It went _tremendously_ well.” she promised, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “Professor Torton _promised_ you were as good as new. Did I not tell you _a thousand times_ those operations were routine to those doctors? Now, you _will_ have to follow the prescribed treatment, of course, and you will not recover in a mere couple of days so there will be none of those stunts you and Effie like to pull. You will take the time to _properly_ recover with us before wandering back to your District. I will hear _no_ objection.”

And she probably _wouldn’t_.

“I’m good?” he croaked, his voice breaking for more than one reason. “I’m not gonna die?”

It was hard to tell with all the plastic in her face but he thought Elindra’s expression softened. “No, you are not going to die any time soon, Haymitch. You will see your children grow up.” He couldn’t help the smile and he didn’t even protest when the Capitol woman tentatively touched his fingers. He squeezed her hand without thinking twice about it. She cleared her throat, her voice a little rougher than usual. “You are _truly_ one ridiculous reckless man, Haymitch. Must you _be_ so attaching? Imagine that. You had me _worried_. I think I liked it better when I hated you.”

“Nah, you didn’t…” he mumbled with a smirk, squeezing her hand again. “ _Mother_.”

She rolled her eyes, pursed her lips and clucked her tongue. “Effie is in a _dreadful_ _state_. She has not moved from your bedside since they brought you back. Please, convince her to go home as soon as she wakes up. The children are asking for her.”

 He nodded but fell asleep long before his wife actually woke up.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted this time because when he woke up Elindra was gone and Effie wasn’t wearing the same clothes so he figured she _had_ gone home at some point.

“Hey.” he smirked, his voice hoarse.

Her head darted up and her blue eyes immediately met his, her lips stretching in an impossibly bright smile.

“Hello.” she grinned.

“You’re beautiful.” he muttered because it was true. He hadn’t seen her look so glowing and happy since… He frowned. “Are we pregnant again?”

She frowned too, her smile slowly fading. “They _promised_ me you were completely fine. Did the anesthesia broke your brain? I _read_ it could happen…”

He thought that over for a second, his thoughts jumbled by the painkillers he was still hooked to. “Don’t think so. Might be _high_ though. Can’t be sure. It’s been a while.”

Her lips twitched and she brushed her fingers against his cheek. “You did it. You survived.”

“So we can go home?” he asked hopefully. He was sick and tired of the hospital.

“Soon.” she laughed, sounding so happy he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her and never stop. “We can go home and live the rest of our lives.”

That sounded so good…

The rest of their lives…

He couldn’t wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so he lives! See how nice I was not to kill him or leave it on a cliffhanger ;) Next chapter will be the last! Let me know your thoughts!


	80. Epilogue (5 years & 4 years)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe it’s the last time I’m updating this story... It’s really really bittersweet. This verse, as improbable as it is, really became so special to me. Snowball, the kids, the Trinkets, how far hayffie went on their respective traumas... I think it’s the most complete post mj story I’ve ever written and I really enjoyed exploring it. I hope you enjoyed it too. Please let me know your thoughts on this last chapter!

“You’re driving me _crazy_.” Johanna spat, rolling her eyes. “ _Relax_ or I’m gonna strangle you.”

Effie pursed her lips and glared at her friend, her annoyance receding a little when Peeta’s chuckles filled the air.

“I simply want everything to be _perfect_.” she huffed, automatically reaching for the young man’s bowtie. She straightened it even though it really didn’t need any straightening and then brushed her hands on his shoulders to chase imaginary creases. Her sight was a little blurry but she hastily blinked the tears away. “You are so _dashing_ , my darling…”

“Okay.” Johanna sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m out of here. I’m gonna go check on Katniss.”

And Seven’s victor simply exited the Justice Building’s marriage room amongst the excited whispers of the few guests. Effie watched her slip through the cracked open doors behind which Haymitch, Katniss, her bridesmaids and the flower girls were waiting – at least if everyone was on schedule – and then reported her attention on Peeta who was studying her with a soft smile.

“Everything will be fine, Effie.” the boy promised.

“It better.” she huffed, surveying the room one last time.

She had personally overseen the decoration, as well as the ceremony’s details. She had overseen _everything_ really. Truth be told, she had been planning the children’s wedding since the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games’ Victory Tour so she had had _ample_ time to _think everything through_.

And yet the first thing her mother had said when Elindra had arrived was: _are you quite certain about those flowers?_

Her eyes found her parents. They were sitting in the back and were currently making sure Aidan didn’t run off before his big entrance – or didn’t play with the cushion bearing the rings or lose them or more generally _behaved_. Bryden and Timotheo, by comparison, were both extremely calm and dignified, sitting between Tadius and Lyssa with airs of self-importance as they clutched the baskets full of flower petals to their chest, ready to hand them out at the right moment when the newlyweds would leave the room.

The boys all looked absolutely dashing in their little grey suits. They were matching Peeta’s and Haymitch’s outfits. She had seen to that.

“Effie.” Peeta called with some amusement, grabbing her hand. “ _Relax_.”

From Johanna, it had almost been an insult but Peeta didn’t make it sound as if she was the most irritating woman on the planet. He sounded happy and impatient and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I cannot believe you are _finally_ marrying Katniss.” she blurted out, a bright smile stretching her lips.

She blinked harder because… She was _extremely_ emotional today. She may or may not have started sobbing while doing Katniss’ make-up and she may or may not have hugged Peeta for a good fifteen minutes before they had made their entrance at the Justice Building. He had asked her to escort him as a mother would escort the groom and that alone had been enough to make sure she would be weepy all day.

“I know.” Peeta grinned, his blue eyes twinkling with so much _happiness_ …

Effie was grinning when someone cleared their throat and the doors finally opened all the way. April and Finn appeared first. April was holding to Finn’s arm as she had been instructed, charming in her little pale pink organza dress, enthusiastically tossing flowers by fistfuls while the boy focused on _not_ tripping even though she was dragging him along. There were a lot of _oohs_ and _aaahs_ and the photographer she had insisted on hiring – because, as she had stated, the children _would_ want pictures and all their close friends would be in the wedding party – took an awful lots of pictures.

Once she reached the end of the aisle, April flunked her empty flower basket at Finn’s and rushed to Effie and Peeta with a ear-splitting grin. “Did I do it right, Mama?”

A few people laughed and Effie couldn’t help but smile at the candid question, crouching down to receive her daughter’s hug. “You were _fabulous_ , my little shrimp.”

“I might have to marry you instead of Katniss…” Peeta chimed in, poking April’s shoulder.

April laughed happily, her attention soon attracted by Elindra’s frantic waving. The girl darted to her grandmother, suddenly remembering she was supposed to sit right after having tossed her flowers, like Finn had done.

The guests were distracted from the children’s antics by the bridesmaids entrance. Johanna and Annie walked in. Annie had a soft smile on her face and was wearing a nice blue dress, Jo was sporting a scowl and had refused to wear the dress. She had opted for a suit herself instead. It hugged her curves and didn’t look half bad but Effie was still annoyed she had to go and ruined the mood she had painfully tried to give the whole wedding. Annie went to sit down next to her son while Jo hung around next to Peeta and her since she was acting as Katniss’ witness.

Then came the part she had truly been waiting for and she stared at Peeta’s face when Katniss finally appeared, aware he hadn’t seen the dress yet. And there it was, the pure look of love and devotion on his face. The boy was gaping a little, stunned and in awe.

Giving up on pretending she wasn’t crying anymore, Effie finally turned her eyes to the girl who was slowly making her way to them, one hand secured in the crook of Haymitch’s arm. She was radiant. Effie had designed and sewed the wedding dress herself. It looked deceptively simple. The sweetheart neckline of the bustier hugged her cleavage, the lace of the top was intricate but discreet and the fluid fabric flooded from her waist to the floor, leaving a small trail behind her, delicately embroidered in primrose patterns.

Effie had slaved on it for _months_ and it was her _masterpiece_.

Her attention soon switched to Haymitch who was _strutting_ – there was no other word for it – beaming with pride. They reached them eventually and he pressed a kiss on Katniss’ forehead, clapped Peeta’s shoulder and then brushed his lips against Effie’s cheek – merely an excuse to whisper in her ear.

“Told you you wouldn’t make it five minutes without crying.” he mocked.

Still, she was glad for the handkerchief he discretely pressed in her hand.

The rest of the ceremony went without a single glitch. Effie was sobbing well before the children said ‘I do’ but she supposed that was to be expected and she almost gushed with pride when Aidan carried the cushion with the rings forward. The boy sprinted back to Haymitch with a proud laugh and Effie smiled when she saw him haul their son up on his lap and press a kiss against his little neck. April’s legs were bouncing under the chair she was sitting on and Effie was certain the only thing holding her back from running around was the hand Haymitch had placed on her shoulder.

The rest was all a blur.

There were pictures, the expected cat and mouse game at the entrance of the Justice Building because of the press – to be fair, both the Secretary of Communication _and_ Panem’s President were in attendance so it wasn’t something they had been able to avoid – and finally they were all back in the relative safety of the Village the paparazzi were legally forced to respect.

The party had been the difficult part to plan and Effie ran around giving out instructions and making sure everything went without a hitch. The food, the drinks, the fairy lights, the music… They were having the reception in the children’s garden and it had required _organization_ to make everything fit in there.

“Alright.” Haymitch grabbed her arm as she was hurrying past him to make sure everything was going alright in the kitchen and Sae was ready to have the food served. “You need to _relax_.”

“ _Why_ is everyone telling me this today?” she huffed.

“’Cause you look like your head’s about to pop.” he snorted. “Come sit down. Eat something.”

And thus she was forced to sit down at the main table with their friends who weren’t happy until she had forgotten to worry. Katniss and Peeta looked so happy and in their own bubble – as they should be – that she soon let the tension wash off her. She soon was laughing with everyone else, keeping an eye on the children’s table to make sure April and Aidan were doing alright. Bryden and Timotheo had everything under control though. They were taking their big cousins roles _very_ seriously.

Effie beamed and clapped with everyone else when the children cut out the cake only to laugh her protest when Haymitch tried to kiss her a little while later with his mouth full of chocolate.

“Mama!” April called, tugging on her dress. Their daughter was only happy once she was sitting on her lap with all the grown-ups. It wasn’t long before Aidan climbed on Haymitch’s knees. Half of their pieces of cake went to their children but neither of them really minded.

At some point, Tadius walked by their table and April jumped on her grandfather. Aidan was always following in his sister’s footsteps so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he scampered off too.

“Your Mother is on my case.” Haymitch snorted. “She says we haven’t visited them in too long.”

“I know.” she chuckled. “I was thinking we could spend a week or two in the city after our trip to Four this summer.”

“ _Or_ your family could meet us in Four.” he suggested hopefully. “Two birds, one stone.”

They had spent so many weeks in the city after his surgery, waiting for him to be recovered enough to safely go back to Twelve, that she understood why he was so reluctant to go back even two years later. They _had_ been back though. She made a point of visiting her parents at least once a year and, of course, it had become tradition for them to spend a couple of weeks with them in winter. But going to the Capitol was never easy for Haymitch – or for her for that matter.

“Haymitch.” Katniss said briskly, suddenly appearing behind his chair. “It’s time.”

“Do we _have_ to?” he groaned.

Effie rolled her eyes. “It is _tradition_.”

They were ridiculous. Looking at them, you would have thought she was sending them to the firing squad.

“But, sweetheart, she _can’t_ dance.” he protested. “And she _ain’t_ that light, let me tell you. It _hurts_ when she stomps on my feet.”

“Hey!” Katniss scowled. “You’re the one who can’t lead.”

“I _can_ lead. You just don’t let me.” he scoffed.

“Enough.” Effie clucked her tongue, staring at them in turns. Forcing Katniss and Peeta to take dance lessons – _again_ – hadn’t been entirely fun. “Haymitch _can_ lead, Katniss. And you… It is so _rude_ to comment on a woman’s weight, I do not even know where to start. And on her wedding’s day too!”

“Alright, alright…” he grumbled, standing up. “I’d rather get stomped on than lectured.”

She huffed at their abrupt departure but watched with a small smile when they opened the ball. _She_ had insisted on the traditional father-daughter dance even if, apparently, it was more of a Capitol thing. It was worth it though, if only because Haymitch looked so proud of taking Katniss out there…

Eventually, he handed the girl over to Peeta and came back to her, wordlessly outstretching a hand.

She lifted her eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Don’t make me ask.” he smirked.

“Perhaps I _should_ make you ask.” she hummed, her lips twitching. “We have been married so long… Do you take me for granted?”

His grey eyes were twinkling with amusement and she was _so certain_ he would answer with a taunt, keep up the banter… He could still surprise sometimes.

“Never.” he vowed, far more seriously than she expected.

Her smile softened and she slipped her hand in his, letting him lead her to the dance floor. They waltz with the ease of habits, even if it had been years since their last time. They danced a couple of songs until her father asked if he could borrow her. She thought Haymitch was actually relieved to be able to beg off. She danced with Leo next, then her nephews, then Peeta, then her father again… She had quite lost count when Plutarch awkwardly asked her for a dance. Their friendship was tentative at best nowadays but they were trying.

The music picked up to something more upbeat after a while and she left the dance floor to the young people, her smile turning a little melancholic when she realized she did not belong to that age category anymore. She danced with Aidan – or humored the child into swaying her hips this way and that, encouraging him to do the same – like she had seen Haymitch dance with their daughter earlier.

It was truly a good night.

Katniss found her and hugged late into the party, when most guests had already retreated to the small inn in town. It was so rare for the girl to give spontaneous hugs that she smiled against her dark hair, enjoying the moment.

“Did you enjoy your day, dear?” she asked.

“It was amazing.” Katniss promised. “Thank you for everything.”

She smiled, fixing a wayward strand of black hair back into the braided hairdo. She tried not to get emotional again but it was difficult. She had almost been as disappointed as Katniss when Aster Everdeen had declined to come to Twelve to attend the wedding. Now that they had gotten so far, not having had Elindra at her own wedding seemed… _ludicrous_. And sad.

“I am _so_ proud of you, Katniss.” she whispered. “So proud…”

Katniss might also have been a little more emotional than usual because Effie was treated to another hug.

“Am I interrupting the moment?” Peeta asked, placing a hand on Katniss’ shoulder.

Effie didn’t think he had stopped smiling all day.

“I was just telling Effie everything was perfect.” the girl told him.

“Well, with Effie Trinket… Everything is always _fabulous_.” Peeta teased.

She rolled her eyes with fondness.

“It’s _Abernathy_.” Haymitch snorted behind her, his hand loosely wrapping around her nape. His smirk was soft and relaxed but the way he was holding himself told her he was starting to get tired. Medically, the doctors were unanimously convinced he was out of the woods but bouts of tiredness were to be expected sometimes. “You’re ready to go, Princess? The kids are out.”

He nodded at the kids’ house and he figured their children were sleeping on their couch – probably with Buttercup if they had managed to hunt the cat down. Their own five cats weren’t enough for Aidan and April, they _had_ to go and cuddle Katniss’ old tomcat too – something Buttercup was _not_ fond of.

“Yes.” she nodded, engulfing the children in one last embrace, prompting everyone to chuckle. “Oh, I will miss you _so muc_ h…”

“You know, we’re all gonna have breakfast tomorrow, yeah?” Haymitch snorted. “Ain’t like they’re gonna take off forever in the middle of the night without a goodbye.”

But after breakfast they would leave for a resort near District One where they would spend two weeks on their honeymoon and she _was_ going to miss them _terribly_.

“We’ll miss you too, Effie.” Peeta offered before she could retort and it morphed into a fight.

“Yeah.” Katniss agreed. “But we’re gonna call.”

“You will have other priorities and you will forget all about us.” she sighed and then released them to wave that off. “Which is as it should be. Enjoy the rest of your night, my darlings.”

Carrying the children back home was becoming more and more difficult. They had grown up so much… Sometimes she felt like she had given birth only yesterday and then she looked at them and they were so big and full of life… She loved them both so much…

She pressed a kiss on Aidan’s head, adjusting her grip on the sleeping toddler. Haymitch had April secure in his own arms, their daughter’s head nestled in the crook of his neck like always. April had woken up when he had lifted her up and he was now trying to get her back to sleep, humming the familiar lullaby under his breath.

The girl had dozed off again by the time they reached their house. Snowball barked as soon as they let themselves in.

“ _Shh_.” she ordered in a whisper. “Quiet, my pretty baby. _Quiet_.”

The dog let out another small bark and then bumped against her legs, begging for an attention she couldn’t yet give since her arms were full. Haymitch had his own problems, he was trying not to step on any of the five cats that had immediately rushed to greet them with piercing little mewls. You would have thought they hadn’t eaten in days when she knew _perfectly_ well Haymitch had swung by the house during the reception to let the dog out in the backyard and feed each and every of their – _numerous –_ pets.

“Give me April.” she suggested. “I will get the children to bed and you can take care of this lot.”

She nodded at the army of cats led by the dog swarming around them, sparing a second to wonder when she had stopped marveling at the fact they had more pets than children.

“Fine by me.” he sighed. “I’m gonna check on the geese too.”

Transferring Aidan into her left arm and April into her right took a little time but it was a well-rehearsed ballet they had mastered long ago. She waited until Haymitch had brushed a kiss on both of their heads and whispered a soft goodnight before carrying them up the stairs. Getting them into pajamas by herself took some maneuvering but eventually both of them were in their respective bed and she had kissed both of them goodnight.

She discarded her heels and her fancy red dress in their bedroom, slipping her flimsy pink nightgown on before going back downstairs. Snowball was sprawled on the couch and lifted his head when he spotted her, his tail wiggling left and right. She buried her fingers in his fur, petting him distractedly, her eyes on Haymitch who was poking the fire.

His jacket had been tossed over an armchair and he had rolled up his sleeves, his bowtie hung untied on either side of his neck, a few buttons had been popped open at the collar… The waistcoat was still in place though.

“This is your best look.” she grinned because she had always had _a thing_ for his disheveled appearance, particularly when it involved fancy clothes.

“Thought you liked me better naked.” he snorted before turning around. His eyebrows shot up. “Now, this is _your_ best look.”

She laughed and sat down on the couch next to the dog, not surprised when Snowball immediately pushed his head on her lap and rolled on his side so she had more surface to scratch. She dutifully petted him until he let out a small happy sigh.

“I’ve put some water to boil. You want some tea?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

It was late and she was tired but her head was still full from the day’s events and she hummed her approval. She smiled when he handed her a steaming mug of strawberry tea a few minutes later and leaned into his side without too much prompting when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch behind her.

“So…” he snorted. “Our kids are finally married.”

 “Do you think they will have their toasting now?” she asked. “Or will they wait until tomorrow morning?”

The children hadn’t said if they wanted a private toasting like _they_ had shared. She smiled at the memory, her eyes falling on the fireplace.

“Katniss was planning on having it tonight, I think.” he answered a little sleepily, propping his head against hers. “She kept asking me about vows like I know a _shit_ about that.”

Her lips twitched and she took a sip of her tea.

“Yours weren’t so bad.” she protested.

_We’re not doing vows. But… Look… I’m gonna protect you and the shrimp with everything I’ve got. As long as I have a breath in my body, I’ll keep you safe. I’m never gonna abandon you. Ever. ‘Cause you’re my family. You’ve been my family for a long time, Effie, and I… I love you. Now, eat the damn toast._

It definitely hadn’t been the most romantic declaration but coming from him… Oh, it had meant – and still continued to mean – everything.

“They weren’t vows.” he grumbled. “We didn’t have vows.”

“Mine were simpler.” she commented, ignoring him.

_We said no vows but I still vow to love you. Always._

She felt his lips press against the crown of her head.

“Do you still mean them?” he asked. “It’s been almost six years…”

“I will mean them until the day I die.” she scoffed. “I believe that _is_ rather the point of marriage.” They drank their tea in silence for a bit and then she looked up at him. “Am I still the love of your life?”

“With the kids.” he amended, his eyes soft and full of a tenderness that always made her want to _melt_. “But that ain’t even a question, Princess.”

She placed her half-empty mug down and snuggled against his chest, chuckling a little when Snowball settled on her curled up legs, never one to be excluded from a cuddling session. Haymitch wrapped his arm around her and kept on drinking his tea. She drifted off a little, lulled to sleep by the regular heartbeat under her cheek.

When she opened her eyes again, the fire had dimmed, the dog was gone and Coal was staring at her from the coffee table on which he was perched. The cat gave her a small mewl. She glanced at the clock and made a face when she realized how late it was. They were getting much too old to sleep on the couch now. They always got up with aches all over.

Almost seven years after the end of the war, Haymitch still hated being shaken awake.

He groaned and tightened his hold on her in protest.

“Go back to sleep.” he muttered. “Too _fucking_ early.”

She pressed a series of kisses on his neck that had him groaning again.

“You have to wake up, Haymitch.” she murmured again and again.

“Why?” he complained, his eyes still firmly shut. But he was alert now she could tell.

“Because I love you and it’s time to go to bed.” she teased, bumping her nose against his cheek.

“Yeah?” he smirked, suddenly more interested. “And what are we gonna do there?”

“Sleep?” she chuckled. “I don’t give it three hours before your son comes bouncing on our bed.”

“Can do _plenty_ in three hours.” he snorted and then he chuckled too. “Can’t help noticing how they’re _my_ kids every time they do something you don’t like but they’re _yours_ every time they do something right.”

“How clever of you.” She hauled herself off the couch, battling off the embrace he didn’t want to loosen, and headed up the stairs, smiling to herself when she heard him sigh and follow a few seconds later.

He muffled her laughter with a kiss before their antics could wake the children up.

She turned around in his arms and locked her hands behind his nape, gazing up at his grey eyes in the semi-darkness.

“I never thought I would be _this_ happy.” she confessed.

“Me neither.” he shrugged and then kissed her again.

They barely had any nightmares anymore, it seemed the demons had been laid to rest at last. Haymitch’s health was as good as it could be. The children were both healthy and smart little bundles of joy who never ceased to amaze them. Their victors were together, happy and at peace. Her dressmaker business was flourishing even if she still didn’t have the means to open a shop.

And the two of them…

They had been through hell and had withstood the storms… They had survived and endured… And it sometimes felt like the two of them had never been so close or so in love, as if the trials and the death and the pain had forged instead of breaking them.

But was that so surprising? What was that old saying again?

_April Showers bring May flowers…_

**_The End_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this last chapter. I might revisit this verse in one shot sometimes... Please do let me know if you liked the wedding!
> 
> Don’t miss my new stories : “The Greatest Show” a 60/70s ish circus au and “Katniss, the vampire slayer” series. I hope to see you all back on these two new adventures! They will start in two weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!


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